Dance with the Devil
by Heart of PureSilver
Summary: What would you do if a random red-eyed ninja guy suddenly appeared in your living room one day and threatened you with a butter knife? I thought I went crazy. It wasn't until later that I learned he was Madara Uchiha, the main antagonist of "Naruto". So why did I end up falling for him, even though I knew he would never so much as glance at me? M for language and implied themes
1. Insanity

Hello there, good people of the internet and the fangirls who inhabit it like perverts with no life. If this was one of those cheesy cliché fanfics that I would occasionally read on the internet just to point out how unrealistic and stupid they were, this would be the point where I introduce myself, all my wondrous Mary-Sue-ish abilities, and my extensive knowledge of a certain fandom because "it's, like, totally the best thing _ever_ invented since the conception of the toaster-oven" before I am whisked away off to some fantastical land filled with glorious and beautiful men; where a wave of my hand sends them crawling to my feet and kissing them, praising me as a goddess after I defeat the nefarious villain singlehandedly and I marry my childhood fangirl crush before we live happily ever after as king and queen of the world and everything is right and well with the universe afterwards.

No.

Seriously, let's get real here. I am not a goddess and my name is not Mary or Sue or any variation of the two. My name is Lilith. Lilith Price. Yeah, I know. Greatest name in the freakin' multiverse, note the sarcasm. I had shoulder-length brown hair and gray eyes. Yes, it is completely possible to have gray eyes in real life and I hated how I seemed like I was the only person of my peers who had gray eyes. I was an ordinary woman living in Michigan, the most bipolar place in the United States when it comes to the weather. I wasn't anything special and I wasn't asking for any excitement in life. I wasn't insanely rich and I did not have influential parents. I went to college, I got good grades, I behaved like the good little girl I was always told to be. I wanted to be a psychiatrist once I got my degree. I was also very single in my life. I never had a guy to call a "boyfriend", not that I particularly cared anyway. The closest I got were "guyfriends", where they're guys, but they're just friends.

So what _is_ special about me? Well, let's see…

At the age of twenty-one, living as a perfectly normal human woman on Earth, where superheroes and mutants are the byproducts of the uncreative subhuman mind, you'd expect me to firmly believe that the fictional areas of life do not exist. The idea that we are one of many words out there was complete and utter rubbish. If there really were super-powered aliens somewhere in the world, surely they'd have conquered us by now in their effort to create a galactic empire, reminiscent of _Star Wars_. But, no; they haven't. As I've said before, fiction is utter bullshit no matter how interesting and awesome it may be.

So surely you could have expected me to believe that the possibility of other dimensions existing wasn't plausible either. Therefore, I suspected that the random Japanese ninja guy with red eyes and long spiky hair wielding a butt-shaped fan that had popped out of my computer screen one October weekend had to be a hallucination produced from my sub-cranium after two consecutive days of no sleep due to studying.

I had finally cracked and was mentally unstable; that's what I constantly told myself. Yet, the hallucination never went away and other people could see him too. Turns out it wasn't just cracked up mental processes from my broken mind, but it was _very_ real. Anime characters coming to life? That doesn't sound so bad at first, as long as said character is the main protagonist or a friend of said protagonist where they are mostly friendly towards innocent people in general. At the time, no one told me the guy was the frickin' main antagonist of a bunch of overpowered ninjas who talk too much and tried to take over his world with a variety of multi-tailed animals, falling meteors summoned at will, and fancy-schmancy illusions on the moon.

In other words, the guy was evil incarnate.

Yet, I fell for him. _Hard_. Why couldn't I have fallen for someone _normal_, you ask? Because he _was_ normal. Under all the hatred and the pain, he was just like you and me.

Let's travel back in time to the point when the whole mess started, shall we?

* * *

It was a normal Michigan Saturday morning for me. It was just the beginning of October, so the weather outside was subject to randomly jumping between twenty degrees to being about fifty. That's what you get for living in a place with bipolar weather year-round. At that moment, I was just waking up. I've never been much of a morning person, but I could wake up early if I had to. I wouldn't enjoy it much, though. I was crawling out of my bed, tossing my extremely old Jigglypuff pillow to the floor as I did so. I had that thing for _years_. It wasn't much of a Balloon Pokémon anymore; it was all deflated and her curl had come undone. I blame my childhood fondness for not getting rid of it yet when it clearly needed to be dumped. I didn't bother making my bed; I never did. Living alone had both its perks and its flaws. One of the pluses was I didn't have to hear my parents nagging at me to do my morning routine every morning. I could skip a few steps and go straight to breakfast, which was what I did. Grabbing my white bathrobe, I tied it around my pajamas, which were really just my Jeff Dunham Achmed "Silence! I KEEL YOU!" T-shirt and some blue jeans that I wore the previous day.

Yeah, Jeff-fa-fa Dun_**HAM**_ was my favorite comedian ventriloquist. I had all his shows on DVD. It was one of the few things I actually obsessed over. Other things I obsessed over were anything related to Disney and vampires that WEREN'T _Twilight_ related.

I had basically pulled all-nighters the past two days. I had an important test to study for and it counted for a decent portion of my final grade in that class. So, today was my day for relaxing! I rushed down the stairs, heading for the kitchen to make myself breakfast…or lunch, since it was about noon when I woke up. I quickly pulled out a bagel and put it in my toaster. As I waited for the toaster to finish toasting my bagel, I pulled out a butter knife and the peanut butter from one of the cupboards.

Yes. I ate toasted bagels with peanut butter on it. There's nothing wrong with that. It's just like peanut butter on toast, only rounder.

I put the peanut butter and knife on the small round table, fit for maybe three people. I went back upstairs to my study room to grab my laptop. That thing was like a second heart to me. I couldn't live without it. I was always doing something on it, whether reading, watching YouTube, or doing homework. This time, however, I was doing something completely different from my usual norm.

My best friend, Bethany Dale, oftentimes nicknamed "BaD" by me, had insisted that I try out the _Naruto_ anime series. She was a proud "Narutard", short for diehard _Naruto_ fan. I prefer the other more insulting meaning of the term when referring to her. She was a complete ditz, yet she still managed to get better grades in her college classes than I did. Sometimes, I really wonder how she did it when she seemed to define the term "dumb blonde" personality-wise. Anyway, she had pestered me countless times to try watching the series. Each time, I ignored her. Until today.

The sneaky bimbo had blackmailed me into doing two things: she was basically forcing me to watch the series until the current subbed episodes and she was going to force me to cosplay as a _Naruto_ character this Halloween. As to which one, I had no clue. I didn't watch a lot of Japanese anime like her. The only ones I did watch were _Hellsing_—mainly because of the maturity, the bloody violence, and the badass vampires, including Count Dracula _himself_—and Pokémon when I was like ten. I grew out of the latter…mostly.

I sighed as I stared at the small white package containing the DVD. I could still remember the day she bought it off some weirdo creep in a hood as we were walking home from school. The guy had seemed awfully suspicious, but she couldn't turn down the chance of adding more _Naruto_ merchandise to her already massive collection. She had harems of plushies of every male _Naruto_ character in her bedroom, I swear it! And she constantly fondled her "precious Weasel-chan" plushie whenever she could, whoever the hell that was. You know it's bad if I use the word "fondle". You cannot put that word in any sentence to make it have a positive connotation. I dare you to try it.

"You're grumpy, Senpai!" she said. "You're just like Sasu-sama; all mean and cranky with everyone and everything in the world!"

"I'd rather be a dwarf than be like you," is what I dryly said in response. "You're a nut."

In all honesty, she was. I mean, who speaks to people using Japanese honorifics when addressing someone from AMERICA? Apparently, "senpai" meant senior and "sama" meant someone really important. I didn't care too much. I'm already partly crazy because she's my best friend and she's very eccentric. Thankfully, she didn't hail Japan as the center of the universe and the center of her life. She did like a lot of Japanese things, such as games like _Final Fantasy_ and animes like _Naruto_. She apparently preferred the dubbed versions more so than watching the episodes with subtitles, but that didn't stop her from watching the original Japanese versions of them either.

I took the DVD out of its package and opened my laptop's disk drive. I placed the DVD inside, but didn't push it in yet since I heard the pop of my toaster, signaling my bagel was done being toasted. I hastily went to the kitchen, grabbed my bagel, my peanut butter, and my butter knife before going back to the living room. I pushed the DVD in, spreading peanut butter on my bagel as I waited for the stupid thing to boot up. I wasn't looking forward to watching whatever crap this "Masashi Kishimoto" decided to draw and call it an actual story. Munching on my crunchy, peanut-buttery bread, I waited. There was a pop-up window, signaling that the DVD was being read and was getting ready to show me the main menu.

However, my computer screen suddenly went black!

I sat there on the floor, jaw hanging open with mushed up peanut butter bagel still inside my mouth. If anything bad happened to my laptop, there would be serious hell to pay. I could make Hell itself freeze over if I got seriously angry. It was a rather frightening experience for whoever was on the receiving end of it. Tables and sharp, pointy objects were kept well out of my reach for that specific reason. BaD had been that unfortunate victim many times, yet she still pissed me off when she could.

"Bethany…if my computer died…I promise you, you will feel a wrath far more deadly than that of ten thousand Team Edward fans fighting each other to get laid by their sparkly idol!" I swore under my breath, my hand clenching tighter onto the butter knife in my hand.

The black screen soon changed into what I call "the blue screen of death", where it was a blue screen with various numbers, letters, and other such nonsense listed on it. But what was strange was the symbols were flashing before my eyes, as if someone was typing them in at a rapid pace from someplace else since I certainly didn't have my hands on the keyboard. The screen suddenly glowed a bright white right in my pupils. I slammed the palms of my hands to my eyes. It was worse than the flash of a camera! I heard a sharp whirring sound, making me fear that my laptop might explode if this crazy scene went on any longer. The whirring kept increasing in volume as well as the light. It felt like hours before the whirring suddenly stopped.

I heard a loud grunt as the floor below me shook. The fucking hell just happened? I peeked through my fingers, my eyes nearly bulging at what I saw.

It was a guy. No, it wasn't your typical guy, Mr. Tall, Handsome, and Horny-as-_**FUCK**_. I could tell this guy was different. _Waaaaaaaaaaaay_ different. For starters, he had spiky hair that was longer than my own, reaching to about his lower back in length and looking to be in better care too! There was so much _wrongness_ with that picture. What guy actually WANTS long hair and can actually pull it off well? Zero, Zip, Zilch, Nada.

The second thing I noticed was what he was wearing. He looked to be wearing some red armor over black clothes with matching black gloves and some oddly shaped sandals were on his feet, which were taped up for whatever weird reason. The last thing I noticed—to be honest, it really should have been the first thing to notice, but I was too stupid to bother since I was trying to figure out why a guy had spontaneously appeared from nowhere—was the giant fan-like thingy lying not too far from him. It was white and had these weird commas on it and it was round. To me, it looked like the shape of a person's butt.

I hereby dubbed thee, "Ass Fan". May you always be used to blow asses for personal pleasure. Amen.

I just sat there on the floor, not moving an inch. My thoughts were racing as my heart pounded wildly in my chest. Who was this dude and what kind of audacity did he have for trying to sneak into my house!? Why was he dressed up like some ninja on crack? Why did he have an Ass Fan? Why was he here?

Instead of doing the reasonable thing and running for the closest phone to call the police and inform them that a mental patient dressed as a ninja on crack wielding an Ass Fan had just invaded my home, I went against common sense and moved closer to the seemingly unconscious guy. Curiosity, I curse thee with every fiber of my being. You will kill me one day just like it did to Jasper the cat. They say curiosity killed the cat, but that cat never had a name so I personally named him Jasper. Bless his little kitty heart up there in the clouds.

I slowly tiptoed up to him, peanut-butter bagel and knife still in hand. The floor creaked under my feet, causing me to internally groan. My house was the worst house to sneak around in. The floors creaked if you put too much pressure in certain spots, making these loud noises that you could hear from just about anywhere in the house. I got closer, ignoring the protesting floor, curious to see what his face looked like since his back was facing me.

I barely let out a startled yelp as I felt myself slammed into the floor the next second. How in the world I was standing one second and ended up on the floor in the next stupefied me completely. That shouldn't be humanly possible, no matter how strong or fast someone is. My eyes were closed as the pain on my back quickly blossomed from a slight tingle that I could ignore to a full-blown—

"Ouchie-wow-wow…"

Yeah. Like that. It's hard to describe pain other than with the words you hiss out when you feel it.

"Don't move."

I snapped my eyes open at the deep masculine voice, finding its owner right above my face. His face was fair-skinned with no visual flaw messing it up. I was instantly jealous. I had the worst problem when it came to acne. WHY were some blessed with no acne in their lives while others had to constantly apply facial crap just to _tame_ it!? It was mutiny against the natural stages of adolescence! MUTINY, I SAY!

His eyebrows were creased, as if he was angry at something. I briefly scanned over his eyes; they were blood-red. I blinked stupidly a few times just to make sure I wasn't seeing things. He was using special contacts, perhaps? I noticed that he held both my wrists in one hand, forcing them above my head so I couldn't use them though I somehow managed to remain holding onto my precious peanut-butter bagel. My eyes then traveled downward when I felt something cool touch my throat. I found my peanut butter-coated butter knife in his other hand, holding it against my throat in a threatening manner.

I nearly died trying to hold my laughter in. Who the fuck in their right mind _threatens_ someone with a _butter knife_? Especially one still coated in peanut butter? That just added to the insanity of the situation.

"It's not like I can move with you lying on top of me, pervert," I answered wryly, taking note of the rather suggestive positioning we were in.

I felt the knife dig deeper into my neck. I could feel it pressing against my jugular. As hilarious as everything was, this guy was serious. He was holding me hostage in my own home with a _butter knife_. Oh, the humiliation. I could just imagine BaD's reaction if she found out.

"Look, buster," I said, narrowing my eyes at the man. "I don't care if you _are_ part of a secret organization of BKN, but you are breaking and entering and now you're assaulting me with a weapon. I could have you arrested for this."

"BKN?" he questioned. He was more interested in the acronym instead of worrying about being arrested? What the heck was this guy playing at?

"Butter Knife Ninjas, ya vampire reject," I deadpanned. "Now put the kitchen utensil away, Cuckoo-ca-choo. Don't need you poking your eye out with it."

"Do have any idea who you're speaking to?" he said in that deadly tone that could stop a whiny baby's crying in an instant, pressing the knife even harder into the tender skin on my neck. The thing was more serrated than most butter knives, so it could do harm if you're not careful; I cut my tongue on it once. If the knife was pushed any harder into my neck, I feared it'd finally break the skin and then I'd have a mess I wouldn't be able to clean up: my slow and bloody death. Even so, I rolled my eyes at the crackpot. He was going to get the exact answer he deserved.

"A crazy dude who's laying over me like a rapist and threatening me with a butter knife," I snapped back. My eyes then widened in realization. "Or you're a hallucination."

That was it. That had to be the answer. I knew it. I had finally cracked. I was suffering from schizophrenia. After being surrounded by the idiots of the world and the Narutardness of BaD's obsession, I had finally lost my last bit of sanity. They said that a sign of schizophrenia was hallucinations and they appeared very real to the person suffering from it. Well, this seemed damn real but it was too crazy to _be_ real. Way ta think things through logically while being under pressure, Lilith! Congratulations!

"I'm no hallucination."

"See, that's _exactly_ what a hallucination would say! You WANT me to believe that you're real! Well, you cannot fool me with your lies, infidel!" I said, taking on Achmed's accent just because I could. "I shall ignore you even if you don't go away! This I swear!"

He just looked at me with a blank face, but I could see the gears working in his mind. "What da hell has this chick been smoking?" was probably along the lines of what he was thinking. I oftentimes wondered what caused me to do really stupid and foolish things that could potentially get me into a shitload of trouble; like antagonize a mental ninja castoff wielding a butter knife. Maybe BaD had an influence on me. She'd be the type of person to tackle-glomp this guy.

"What's your name, anyway?" I asked.

"You're in no position to be asking anything," he said sharply. "Where have you taken me? Who are you working for? What sort of jutsu did you use?"

I just stared at him, giving him my best "are you fucking kidding me?" expression. This hallucination was rather stupid. You'd think since he came from my mind, he'd know where we were. And what nonsense was he talking about? Jootsoo? Like Jujitsu? I had no effing clue.

"I haven't taken you anywhere, crackpot," I said. "You just suddenly popped into my living room after my precious PC went kaput after putting in a stupid _Naruto_ DVD. We're in my house, obviously, and we're the only people here. I work as a waitress at Red Robin's…does that count as working for someone, since technically I'm serving the general population like a slave?"

"Where specifically? Is this still the Land of Fire? Answer."

"Umm…this is Detroit; and a rather dumpy place at the moment," I told him. "This isn't _Avatar: The Last Airbender_, Mr. Ninja; this is reality. Damn, you're a weird ass hallucination. Considering you're from my mind, I would've thought you'd know."

The knife in his hand slackened the slightest bit, his eyes looking skeptically at me. I just glared at him.

"I've traveled far across the land during the wars that constantly plagued the Land of Fire and I've never heard of any 'Detroit'. Do not lie to me, woman."

Well, this was going to be problematic.

"If you would get off me, I'll get my iPhone and prove it to you," I suggested.

His eyes narrowed at me. I don't think he trusted me enough for me to be wandering off. He was damn right too. If he ever let me go, I would run straight to my iPhone and call 911. Either this guy was seriously irrational and desperately needed some psychiatric help or _**I**_ was completely insane and _**I**_ needed the psychiatric help. I held eye contact with his nose since the red eyes were kind of freaky. It reminded me of Dracula from _Hellsing_; long hair and red eyes. Only things missing were the sexy Romanian accent, the old-styled Turkish armor, and the mustache.

I snorted as I imagined a mustache on this guy. That looked so _wrong_.

I let out a squeak when he suddenly let go of my wrists—which were surely going to bruise later or it would be a figment of my imagination and I just _thought_ they'd be bruised—and grabbed my head. He got closer to my face, staring right into my eyes with those creepy ruby orbs. I felt my mind becoming foggy the longer I looked at them. I felt him let go of my face, seeing him stand up to his full height. I felt my body moving against my will, standing up as well. I felt small compared to him; he had to be at least a head or two taller than I was. He glared down at me.

"I'll ask again; where is this place?"

"Detroit, Michigan. United States. North America," I felt myself answer without meaning to.

Was I hypnotized? That was so cool! He could do hypnosis with his eyes! Wait…he was supposed to be an illusion. Can hallucinations use hypnosis? Frick; this was so messed up. Now I KNOW I'm suffering from schizophrenia if I'm being hypnotized by a delusion.

"…Where is this…'Detroit' in the Elemental Nations?"

"There are no Elemental Nations," I answered. "There are seven continents in the world: North America, South America, Asia, Europe, Africa, Australia, and Antarctica. None contain anything resembling the name of 'Elemental Nations'."

"What? What sort of jutsu…?"

"I don't know what 'jutsu' is, but the closest thing I can think of in name is Jujitsu, which is a style of unarmed combat. All I know is that you suddenly appeared in this room after I placed my friend's _Naruto_ DVD into my computer after it seemingly froze."

"I see…this is problematic."

No shit, Sherlock. So, not even Spikes knows what the hell happened to him. This is just _peachy_. I felt whatever fog that had been cast over my mind lift. I glared heatedly at the black-haired bastard.

"What was that all about!?" I snapped at him angrily.

"I had to verify whether you were telling the truth or not, servant girl. Everyone is capable of lying, peasant and shinobi alike. There are those who are even better liars than I am. Even if you're no shinobi, you are still a potential threat."

"Hey, hey, hey! I may work as a waitress, but I'm not someone's maid!" I shouted at him, taking the "servant girl" address as an insult. "Who do you think you are, you prissy pretty-boy!?"

"I'm under no obligation to tell you anything, wench," he said coldly.

"I'm not a prostitute either!" I yelled again. This guy was pissing me off. First, he threatens me, then he mind-fucks me, and then he has the frickin' nerve to label me a slut!? I'd mentally shear his mane of hair off when he sleeps next! He is MY hallucination, after all. I should be able to have some form of control over him, shouldn't I?

"I will be using this residence for now until I can return to Konohagakure," he stated as he went to pick up his Ass Fan.

"Say WHAT!?" I nearly screamed. Now he's _staying_ with me!? "I DIDN'T AGREE TO THIS!"

"I decided for you," he quipped in response. I was on the verge of tearing my hair out at that point. "You have no choice in the matter, servant girl."

I threw my peanut-butter bagel at his back, hoping to ruin his mane of hair. He threw the butter knife he held at the flying bagel, not even bothering to turn around. Both objects whizzed by me at an astounding speed, blowing my hair slightly as I heard a thunk. I turned to look at my wall. The knife was imbedded into my wall, piercing my bagel with precise accuracy.

My poor peanut-butter bagel…Thou have been impaled. I shall AVENGE you!

I went through a quick recap of how the fuck I landed myself into such a situation: weird random guy appears out of thin air, ninja dude threatens me, hypnotizes me, then decides he's gonna be a freeloader, and then he kills my bagel.

What. The. Fuck. Just. _Happened_?

Oh yeah; that's right. I went insane.

Wonderful.

* * *

**I got inspiration for this little plot-bunny after reading IceCrystal7's hilarious fanfic "Invade My World? Enjoy Yourself Then!" and its prequel "Kidnap Me? Have Fun With That!" The complete randomness and the slight romance between her OC and Itachi got me reading other OC stories. Then I noticed something: most of the time, the female OC knows everything about the _Naruto_ series, the character she's being paired with, and she usually ends up in the Naruto universe.**

**So, I'm taking a bit of a spin on this. This time, a Naruto character is sent to the real world and is forced to rely on an OC ****who knows NOTHING about the Naruto series or who's she's dealing with****in order to "fit in" the real world until he finds his way back home. I wanted to try something new and I've come to really like Madara Uchiha as a character. I haven't seen a story where he's thrust into the real world or paired with a normal OC from the human world, so I wanted to try it out and see how it went.  
**

**I want to make this clear: this Madara is the one who still has his friendship with Hashirama after forming the village, but before the animosity over the title of Hokage. This is also my first time writing Madara, so I hope I managed to keep him in character. Please be gentle with me because it's my first time. His personality is rather difficult to get a grasp of.  
**


	2. Madara

Oh, Joe…why? Why did you have to die? You were innocent in this whole mess! What you and I had…it was something you rarely see in a lifetime. You were my significant other. You would've completed me!

"Servant girl…_what_ are you doing?"

"Silence, Hallucination! I'm holding a funeral for the bagel you slayed!"

Here lies Bagel Joe. Death by butter knife thrown by ninja crackpot. October 9th 12:00pm-October 9th 12:30pm. May you rest in carbohydrate heaven. Amen.

I placed the ruined bagel stuck to the ruined butter knife in my trash can. I had a wrestling match to pull the knife out of my wall. Unfortunately for me, butter knife won the round. That thing was _really_ stuck. Mr. Ninja pulled it out himself after fifteen minutes of epic failure from me. He yanked on it once and it came right out. What does that tell you about my physical strength? It was the pits compared to his. However, because he did so, the utensil ended up all bent and the protective padding was ripped off. It was useless for further use.

While I was busy doing a mental eulogy for my dearly departed bagel, Hallucination watched me the entire time. I felt his ruby gaze piercing into my back, burning a figurative hole through me. I had decided to name Mr. Ninja "Hallucination" until he stopped being an ass and told me what he'd like to be called. I ignored his constant stare. If I ignored him, he would eventually go away. No illusion would boss me around; especially not a Japanese ninja reject.

"Is it common for one to…hold funerals for their food in this 'Detroit' place?" he asked awkwardly, a confused frown gracing his seemingly perfect features. Damn him and his pretty boy looks.

"No," I answered, rolling my eyes at the ninja. "I only do it when someone ruins my food because of something stupid. Say, oh I don't know, when a ninja impales it on a wall by throwing a butter knife at it!?"

"You are an odd one, servant girl."

"Shut it with the 'servant girl' crap!" I snapped, jabbing a finger in his direction. "My name is Lilith!"

"_You_ shut it!" he snapped back. Oddly enough, his outburst didn't seem out of character for him. He swiftly regained his composure. "You are a servant girl; one who serves her superiors on a whim's notice. You are not even a shinobi! I shall call you what I wish; 'servant girl' will do for the likes of you."

I felt my eyebrow twitch. Perfect. Hallucination had a superiority complex. This was going to be just _peachy_. I inhaled deeply through my nose, hoping to calm myself down.

"Listen," I said. "I don't know you and you don't know me, Hallucination. Can we have a mutual peace between us at the very least?"

"I told you before; I'm no hallucination," he said, his eyes narrowing at me. I blew it off.

"Yeah; you just keep fooling yourself," I replied back nonchalantly.

He grabbed my face, forcing me to look him in the eyes. His fingers squeezed my face roughly, making me wince. I absentmindedly noticed that his eyes were a coal-black color now. Weren't they red five seconds ago?

"I assure you, servant girl, that I am very real," he hissed in that deadly tone again. "I could have easily killed you already."

"The only things you're killing right now are my skin cells," I dryly responded. I flinched again when the grip on my face tightened.

"Do not test my patience, woman," he said, his eyes bleeding red again. What the hell? Were his eyes as bipolar as his attitude? Or was he some cheap rip-off of Edward Cullen, only Japanese ninja style? "The only reason you are still alive is because you have something that I want."

"That's what she said."

He just blinked at me, not getting the obvious meme of turning something innocent into a sexual meaning by saying those words. I rolled my eyes, deadpanning at Hallucination. Leave it to fate that I get stuck with a delusion that knows nothing about internet memes.

"What is it that you want?

"Information; such as where this 'Detroit' is, where 'the United States' are, where 'North America' is," he answered. "I must return to Konohagakure posthaste. I cannot do that if I have no clue where my current location is in comparison to the village."

"Ko-no-ha-gah-koo-rae?" I repeated slowly. I grabbed his hand that was holding my face and thrust it off. "Okay, that's _it_. I need to call a doctor."

"What do you need a medic for?"

"For myself," I said as I went to the kitchen to get my iPhone. "I've gone _insane_. I'm thinking I'm talking to a Japanese ninja with color-changing eyes that claims to not know where the United States is and says he needs to return to ko-no-ha-gah-koo-rae; someplace that I've never even heard of! I need this fixed and fast. My self-esteem is deep in the gutter already as is. The last thing I need is for people to label me a lunatic when I'm talking to thin air."

"Must I repeat myself? I am _not_ a hallucination!" he yelled from the other room.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever ya say," I responded calmly as I picked up my phone and dialed the number to a doctor I trusted.

"Your attitude is insufferable. That idiot Hashirama makes better company than you," he grumbled. There was a brief moment of silence before I heard him curse under his breath. "Servant girl?"

"Yeah, what?"

There was no response. I tapped my foot as I waited for the person on the other end of my phone to pick up. I also continued to wait for Mr. Ninja to give his question.

"Where is…where…

"Yeeeees?" I groaned, sick of him drawing out his question.

"Where should I…relieve myself?"

Oh. _God_. _**No**_. YOU GOTTA BE SHITTING ME! I slammed my head on the nearest hard surface, which happened to be my kitchen counter. It landed with a loud thunk and I hissed at the pain that bloomed on my forehead. Yep. I definitely needed psychiatric help ASAP.

"Head down the hallway. Look for the room with the porcelain throne."

"Porcelain throne?"

"Duh. The toilet?"

"Toilet?"

"That creamy-white thing that looks sorta like a bowl! It has water in it and there's a metallic lever that flushes the waste away once you're done!"

Lord, have mercy on my poor schizophrenic soul. I'm arguing with a ninja that has no idea what a bathroom is…

Oh fuck. That's right!

"WASH YOUR HANDS WHEN YOU'RE DONE!"

"Um…hello?"

Oh SHIT! The nice lady on the other side of the phone heard that! Damn you, ya unintelligent ninja reject who doesn't know what a toilet is, for making me distracted! I rubbed the sore spot on my forehead. It would bruise later for sure, just like my wrists were.

"Sorry, ma'am," I responded. "I've had a hectic morning."

"We all have those on some days," she sighed. "Is there something I can do for you, ma'am?"

"Yes. I need to schedule an appointment with Dr. Allen? I think I might have lost my mind."

The lady started laughing. I waited for her to stop. "What do you mean 'you _think'_?"

"I mean I do believe I've gone crazy this time."

There was a brief silence. "Is this Lilith Price?"

I sighed. "Yes. This is Lilith Price."

"That's what you said the last time you called. You feared you had lost your mind because you were seeing dancing pink elephants. It was only a side effect of the drugs you took for that nasty flu you had last winter."

"I know," I replied. "But this time, I'm _serious_!"

"What is it this time?"

"I've been very healthy, so I haven't taken any weirdo drugs that mess with my head," I said. "I haven't slept the past two days because I was studying for a test I had, but I slept in today and I'm feeling like I usually do on a normal day. So there's no reason for me to being seeing what I saw."

"…What are you seeing?"

"Don't laugh," I said. "But I saw a Japanese ninja fall into my living room after I put a DVD in my computer. He's dressed up in weird armor and he has this giant fan-thingy that looks like a person's butt. And he didn't know anything about the United States or even what a toilet was! And he killed my bagel with a butter knife!"

I waited a good few minutes for the woman to react. She was probably rolling on the floor laughing in her mind. It DID sound really ridiculous. That's why I knew it had to be delusions from my mind. Japanese ninja do not just simply pop into existence in one's living room. They have to enter through the window or the front door in a sneaky fashion before they can enter the living room.

"Well then…this is new," she said. "I'll make the appointment if you're absolutely sure."

"Thank you, ma'am. I haven't been this sure about something since I declared my love for _Metallica_ back in 2008."

"Is next Monday morning at 10:00 good for you?"

"Yeah," I said. "Thank you so much."

"Alright," the nice lady chirped. "He'll see you then."

The phone clicked and I sighed in relief. Soon I could get some drugs and help myself get rid of Hallucination. Speaking of the devil ninja, why was he taking so long in the John? I didn't hear any flush, so he had to be in there still. Or it just proved the theory that I went insane. Delusions can't take a leak. Or maybe he was taking a mega-deuce? I made my way down the hallway. Oddly enough, the door to the bathroom was still open. Curious, I went to the open doorway.

Mr. Ninja was staring at the porcelain throne with an expression that I couldn't name precisely. It was a mixture of confusion and interest. Thankfully, his trousers…pants…or whatever they were, were still on. I leaned against the doorway.

"Do you need me to potty train you too?" I joked lightly, smirking at the contorted expression on Mr. Ninja's face. "What next? Do you need me to teach you what it means to fap? Nah. A pervert like you can figure that out yourself."

"Get. Out," he growled out in a strained voice.

"I don't feel like it," I responded. "After all, you're a hallucination and this is MY house. I could imagine you naked and I wouldn't bat an eye. You're not real and you taking a leak isn't real either. So, go on and piss. No one's stopping you."

He glared at me, one of his eyelids twitching while his frown deepened. I merely blinked.

"What are you waiting for? Go, if ya gotta go."

"Leave."

"I told you, no. You don't have anything I haven't seen before," I said. "Or are you compensating for something with your Ass Fan?"

In the next moment, everything went to hell.

"DAMN IT, WOMAN! I CAN'T PEE WITH YOU STANDING BEHIND ME!"

There was an awkward silence. I stayed still for a few seconds as he seethed. It looked as if his hair had bristled out, his teeth got sharper, and his eyes seemed to have a deathly glow to them after he shouted that.

I slowly closed the door on him. That's why doors were one of the greatest inventions man has come up with; the beauty that the privacy gives is irreplaceable. I backed off after the "compensation for Mr. Happy" comment. What a huge composure slip from Hallucination. To be honest, that was scary even for me. Note to self: even though he's a mental figure created from my mind, the guy's self-conscious when he takes a piss.

Deciding to just fuck it with my changing my clothes, I took off my bathrobe and headed to my room. It was rather small with just a few precious belongings laying about. Posters of _Metallica_ plastered every inch of my wall, nearly covering up the faded blue wallpaper of the room. A pile of schoolwork lay forgotten on my dresser with various pens and pencils littering around it in a messy state. I haphazardly threw my robe on my queen-sized bed before I went back to the living room.

I picked up my PC and check it over to see if any permanent damage occurred to it. Thankfully, the thing had only shut itself off after the whole "ninja appearing in my living room" fiasco. However, the DVD in the disk drive didn't want to boot itself up anymore, which I found a bit strange. I would be having a little chat with BaD later that day to discuss why one did not buy random shit off of weirdo creeps in hoods on the street.

The sound of a toilet flushing and a surprised "Whoa!" followed soon after I plugged my PC charger into the wall outlet. I placed a hand over my mouth to try and stifle the giggles that wanted to come out. Nice reaction, Mr. Ninja. Way to keep your cool when faced with the porcelain throne. Hallucination walked back into the living room, looking a bit tenser than normal. Wow. Did the toilet really freak him out that much?

"All good?" I asked him.

"Yes," he replied stiffly.

I brushed off his sudden attitude change. I was coming to understand he was subject to sudden personality changes, similar to the weather outside. He'd be cold as ice and then he'd heat up and get snippy with me and then he'd go back to having an icicle shoved up his ass. Now all that was left was to determine if his eyes were just as bipolar.

I pulled up my iTunes library before going down the hallway to my "Bat Cave" as I liked to call it; in other words, my supply closet. It had my cleaning supplies, sponges, paper towels, and my vacuum cleaner as well. I was actually pretty good about cleaning up after myself. Saturday was my "vacuum the house and clean the bathroom" day. I only did heavy-duty cleaning when something big was going to be taking place at my house. Although, it rarely happened since my house was such a dump even when cleaned up. I could only afford so much.

I wasn't born into a rich family. Sometimes, we had to cut things out in order to get by. Because we didn't have much, I was forced to wear hand-me-downs to school. I got picked on for wearing "rags" to class and I "smelt like a sardine, not a flower". I put up with that shit for years. I remained quiet, holding all that rage and hurt inside. That was until I met BaD.

She didn't judge me based on my clothes or how my hair smelt. She was kind enough to get to know me before she judged me. She actually liked my dry sense of humor and she was jealous of my eye color. I never knew why. To me, they looked like a grey thundercloud that formed just before a storm hit. She said "that's what makes them special!" and I shouldn't worry about it.

We became friends over a mutual likeness for turkey sandwiches and our friendship just grew from there. It was like we were long-lost sisters. As we got older and started applying for college, she actually helped pay for sending the application and buying books for classes once I was accepted. I had every intention of paying back every penny she gave. She told me I didn't have to, but I refused to back down. She was my version of "Lady Angel", whoever the hell that was in _Naruto_, and I would make sure I had her back whenever she needed me. Although, it didn't mean she was off the hook whenever she pissed me off, which she did quite often.

I lugged the vacuum cleaner to my living room, watching Hallucination's reaction to it. He had that same bewildered yet fascinated look on his face again.

"What is _that_?"

"A vacuum cleaner," I answered as I plugged the cord into the wall outlet alongside my PC charger.

"Vack-yoom cleaner?" he repeated, completely perplexed at the name of the device.

"How to put this…" I mumbled. "It's an electrical device that sucks up all the dirt, dust, and the tiny insects that make their home inside the carpet. It's used to keep the carpet clean. Although the fucking thing is loud as shit…"

"What about that strange contraption?" he said, motioning towards my computer.

"A laptop," I replied. "Let's you surf the internet, write stuff up, watch videos, listen to music, et cetera, et cetera. It's like having a second brain that you can whip out just about anywhere when you don't know something. Probably the greatest thing ever created for the public to use."

"In-ter-net?"

I sighed. He was acting like a curious child who wanted to ask questions about everything that he didn't know. I scratched my head. How to explain the internet? I smirked when I remembered a certain quote that Bethany told me.

"It's 'a world of darkness where no trace of humanity exists. And should you enter its unholy domain, you will find yourself unable to escape with your sanity intact'."

Ah, LittleKuriboh. How Bethany loves you and your voices for Marik and Bakura for Yu-Gi-Oh! Abridged. In all honesty, it's a very accurate description of the internet. If you see something you really aren't supposed to see on the internet, you will never be able to _un_see it. Believe me; I know. I'm a victim.

I mentally laughed at the expression on Mr. Ninja's face as he discreetly moved away from my laptop. I switched the vacuum cleaner on, grimacing when that loud blaring noise echoed through the room. I felt a swish of air pass by me, blowing my hair harshly into my face. I turned the device off, turning my head to try and find what caused the sudden air current.

I blinked when I saw that Hallucination was missing. He was standing there three seconds ago. Where'd he go? I soon directed my gaze towards the ceiling, my jaw dropping at what I saw.

"How the _fuck_ did you get up there!?" I yelled in shock.

Mr. Ninja was standing—_**STANDING!**_—on the ceiling, crouched in a defensive position with his hands pressed together in a weird fashion. I blinked owlishly. That was against the laws of gravity! He should be plummeting to the ground!

Once again, I was further inclined to believe that I had gone off the deep end.

After reminding myself that he was just a delusion, I calmed down and resumed to turn on the vacuum cleaner. I ignored the tension I could feel flooding the room as I moved around. I was just doing my normal routine, only this time there was an illusion who didn't know how a vacuum worked in the room.

I finished vacuuming the house within an hour and a half. One level and not very big rooms equals a quick vacuuming. Putting the giant noisemaker away, I went back to the living room. Hallucination was still on the ceiling, his red eyes seemingly glowing as they followed my path to my laptop. Yep. Maybe his eyes _were_ as bipolar as his attitude.

Flopping down on my couch, I scanned my iTunes library. I needed to relax and some music would help with that. The whole mess with me becoming a schizophrenic had totally fried my nerves and I couldn't do much about it until Monday. I groaned as I slapped my cheeks. I stared at Hallucination, who was still on the ceiling.

"How's the weather up there?" I jokingly called out. He didn't reply, still looking a tad edgy and in no way wanting to leave his comfy spot on the ceiling.

Whatever. I wasn't going to worry about. It wasn't like I could force him to do anything, anyway.

I picked _Journey_ to listen to before getting back up and heading towards the kitchen. I never got to eat my peanut-butter bagel thanks to a certain _someone_, so I hadn't eaten much yet. I decided to make a turkey sandwich in the end. I still felt Hallucination trailing me on the ceiling as I went about making my lunch. What was he thinking? That I was going to pull a fast one and stab him in the back? As if. It's not like I could do much about a delusion haunting my mind without the right drugs to fend it off.

I grabbed a bag of Spicy Nacho Doritos in one hand and my plate holding my sandwich in the other before heading to the table. I saw Hallucination come down from the ceiling, landing gracefully on the kitchen floor. I eyed him out of the corner of my eyes as I munched on my sandwich.

"I wish you would stop staring at me like a stalker. It's creepy," I told him after swallowing. "If you're hungry, help yourself to something."

He remained silent. Only the sound of "Wheel in the Sky" was penetrating that silence. I let out an aggravated sigh.

"I didn't poison _anything_. Don't be so uptight, Hallucination. It's not like I could kill you even if I wanted to."

"For the last time, servant girl. I. Am. Not. A. _Hallucination_," he said in that chilling tone of his.

"Fine," I retorted. "Then you're my Hell mate."

If that's what he was going to do, then fine. I wouldn't call him Hallucination out loud. I could tell he would be one of those guys who were terrifying to face when royally pissed off. I didn't want to incur his wrath by continuing to refer to him as a delusion, even though he was. So, for the time being until next Monday, he'd be my roommate from Hell, AKA my Hell mate.

"Servant girl."

"Yes, sir?" I said. He was going to refuse using my name and continue with the "servant girl" crap, wasn't he? Oh well. It could be a worse name, like "bitch". I could deal with "servant girl", though I wouldn't enjoy it.

"Are there people trapped in this 'in-ter-net'?"

"What makes you say that?"

"The singing men coming from your laptop?"

"Oooooooh," I drawled. I let out a small laugh. "No. It's a music file. Just a recording. No one is trapped in my laptop or on the internet. The closest we could ever get to that is putting up pictures of people on Facebook or websites like that."

He seemed to relax a miniscule amount after hearing that. Maybe he was worried I was some sorceress who trapped people's souls in my electronic devices to do my bidding for evil purposes. I internally laughed at such a stupid assumption. Shit like that didn't exist in real life.

I held out the open bag of Doritos, shaking it in a hopefully enticing way.

"Come on. You know you want to. They're spicy nacho flavored!"

He didn't move. I sighed.

"Don't knock it till ya try it."

He still stayed put. I pulled out a chip and flung the thing at him. It missed its target. Why? Because it fell short and landed on the floor. Epic fail right there, dumbass. I got out of my chair, picked the thing up, and threw it out. I had convinced myself early on in life that the five second rule was a lie. You don't know where people's feet have been, so it was a "better be safe than sorry" rule for me. With that done, I sat back down at the table, taking another bite of my turkey sandwich.

"You know, you still haven't told me your name. I can't just keep calling you my Hell mate since it would eventually bother you just like 'Hallucination' did. Care to share your name with the class?"

There was a brief moment of silence as he contemplated whether or not to answer my question.

"Madara."

"Mah-dar-a?" I repeated with some difficulty.

What kind of name was Madara? Hey, it's Japanese, Lilith. It's obvious that he ain't from America. At least he was reasonable enough to _give_ me a name. He also seemed rather uptight, as if he had a sort of importance to him and I should respect him as such even though I had no clue as to why he would be important. Well, I was stuck dealing with him until Monday. Might as well try to get along with him rather than wear myself out by arguing with a figment of my imagination.

"Madara…" I repeated again. "I think I can remember that. Nice to meet you, Madara-sama."

Three hours of my day had gone by. I still had the rest of the day and the next two days dealing with him. He was a hallucination. I could do this.

I could survive living with Madara.

* * *

**I'm surprised at how fast I wrote this up. That's a new personal record for me.**

**I partly died laughing myself as I wrote this. I wanted to find some way to put in Madara's issue with him being sensitive to his surroundings. I don't think a problem like **_**THAT**_** would go away with age. Then BAM! I wrote the bathroom scene! That's probably going to be one of the few times he's going to yell at Lilith like that in this story since he's normally pretty composed and seeing him angry is scary shit. I know I wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of Madara's rage.**

**Please review!**


	3. Fear

"Alright, Madara-sama. I'm ready. Get on with the interrogation."

I had decided to just deal with Madara right then and there once I finished eating my lunch. He wanted information so I'd give him information. Why bother arguing with a figment of my imagination, anyway? It was like arguing with a rock. No matter what you'd say, you would never win.

"You wanted to know where we are. Well…" I began as I held up my right hand. I pointed to an area just below my thumb. "We are about right there."

Madara was not amused. I didn't understand why. I mean, that's why living in Michigan had its perks. As long as you had your right hand with you, you had a general map of the Lower Peninsula. How many states have bragging rights to that?

"Do not play games with me, servant girl," he said, his crimson eyes seemingly glowing in the room.

"Oh, no ya don't!" I shouted, taking a few steps back and looking at his feet instead of his face. "I would prefer not to be mind-fucked again, thank you. Can't we be civil about this whole thing and play nice?"

That's what she said.

"I'll prove it to you," I said, rushing to the living room and grabbing my laptop.

I brought the device to the kitchen table, open for Madara to see. I brought up my Firefox browser and typed in "Michigan" in the Google search. As expected, millions of results popped up and topographical pictures of the state appeared in the Google Images results. I clicked on the "Images" tab, seeing even more pictures pop up for public viewing. I stepped away from the computer, allowing Madara to see. I pointed to one of the pictures, which had labels of the various cities in Michigan.

"See? That one dot there? That's Detroit, where we are."

He peered at the picture, a brief look of confusion marking his features. No duh, Sherlock. If he didn't know what Michigan was or where it was located, then he sure as hell wouldn't know what the state looked like. His expression hardened and the look in his eyes got sharper. He glared at me with those piercing red orbs of his. It made my skin crawl every second they stayed focused on me. I quickly typed in "United States", already knowing what he wanted.

The look got worse when he saw pictures of the United States.

You ever had that feeling where every second that passed may be your last? Probably not, but that's what I was feeling at that moment as we surfed Google. The intense desire to kill just filled the room. I had never experienced anything like it. It was then I actually began to fear for my life. He may have been a hallucination, but for that instant I truly felt he was _alive_ and he would actually kill me once this search was over.

The tension only got worse after I showed him maps of the world as a whole. The silence was overwhelming. You would be able to hear a pin drop; that's how quiet it was. I had some trouble breathing after he turned those ruby orbs back on me again. I felt like I wanted to take a knife and slit my throat right then and there just to get rid of that damnable silence. Or maybe Madara would do it for me and leave me to rot away like the dirty rat that I was.

I wanted to speak. So damn much, I wanted to speak just to break that _goddamn_ stillness. But my throat wouldn't work. My lips were quivering slightly, yet no sound came out. I dared to peek at Madara again. The hardened expression was still there, his crimson eyes burning with hatred; hatred so strong that I didn't even know someone was capable of feeling something like that.

"M-Madara-sama…?" I barely managed to stutter. He snapped his attention to me. "Are you…alright?"

"Servant girl," he said blankly, though his eyes spoke a different story. "You brought me to this world. Send me back."

I blinked. "What?"

Faster than I could blink, he grabbed the front of my T-shirt, bringing me to his face. Being so close to him, I noticed three things. The first thing was that he had that "Fuck with me and die" air around him. He was practically oozing it from his being and I knew any sort of wisecrack from me would be my last, hallucination or not. The second thing was that his eyes had commas in them. They formed a sorta triangular-circular pattern around his pupil while the iris was scarlet red. The things were spinning and just watching them move were making me nauseated. Being nearly choked by your own shirt probably didn't help with that feeling either. The last thing I noticed was completely off topic, but it had to be noted. Up close like that…Madara was _gorgeous_. His skin really did seem flawless, like he never had been cursed with acne in his life. The hair on the right side of his face framed his features in all the right places, giving him that cool but collected appearance about him. His chin was slanted, but it had a certain softness to it despite the fact that a guy's chin is normally sharply angled.

"Do you think this to be some sort of joke, wench?" he coolly said, chilling me to my core with the tone he took on. The grip on my shirt tightened. "If this is some sort of revenge against the Uchiha for your family or some sick twisted form of pleasure, I am not laughing. I know you are no shinobi. I could kill you in an instant."

"I swear I didn't do _anything_! I have no idea how you got here!" I squeaked out.

I had never been so terrified in my life. I had learned about the "fight or flight" response we experience when we feel threatened in my college psychology class. It's a natural response the body experiences in an effort to keep the person alive. Certain hormones are released so that you gain an extra boost of energy to escape whatever threat is scaring you. Unfortunately for me, I couldn't use that extra energy to escape.

I was the mouse in the lion's den. I was the wandering lamb and he the prowling wolf. I was David facing Goliath. I had no chance of winning.

I felt tears trailing down my face. I didn't want to die. I had my whole life ahead of me. I wanted to get a job. I wanted to pay back BaD. I wanted to fall in love. I wanted to start a family and have five kids like they do on reality TV, which isn't reality since it does not portray reality accurately _at all_.

Madara let go of my shirt, letting me fall to the ground. All the strength had left my legs, making them piles of meaty, fleshy Jell-O. My lungs did not want to work properly. Madara was still talking to me, but I couldn't hear him. My ears felt like they were stuffed with cotton. I felt my face burning up. I wanted to breathe and puke up all my guts at the same time. My chest started hurting and it steadily got worse. I held my hand over the left side of my chest, futilely attempting to quell the blossoming pain. It wasn't going away, which only made me panic more. I started seeing spots in my vision.

"Servant girl."

I forgot Madara was still in the room. Still watching me. Still judging me. Still wanting to _kill_ me. The pain quickly turned into a fierce burning and I felt like my insides were boiling over.

"Servant girl!"

I felt his hand grab my face, forcing me to look up. The ninja was kneeling down to my level. Madara was looking at me, his eyes back to that coal-black color. Those were easier to look at than those damned red eyes of his.

"Breathe."

I tried. I really did. But I couldn't. I only saw black after that.

* * *

I woke up lying in my bed in my _Metallica_ poster-filled bedroom. I blinked rapidly, wondering what the hell happened. Was all that just a crazy, cracked up dream? I was safe from mental ninjas that were out for my life? Thank _god_…

"So you've finally awakened."

Damn. Guess not. I eyed Madara, who was leaning against my wall and just staring at me like the secret creeper that he was. I groaned, rubbing my eyes. I was really hoping Madara was just a bad dream, but no such luck in my life.

"What happened?" I groggily asked. I felt like shit.

"You had a panic attack when you felt my killer intent," he explained. "I specifically told you to breathe, servant girl. Not to pass out from hyperventilating."

"Well, excuse me for behaving naturally in a situation like that!" I shot back.

Hallucination or not, this guy was _scary_. Note to self: I don't care if I _do_ think he's a hallucination; do NOT piss Madara off and stay the hell away from him as much as possible. My mental state could only take so much. If this guy killed me, either I would really die or I'd be in the loony bin before I could achieve my lifelong goals. Neither were nice options.

"I've never dealt with a situation where I felt like my very _life_ was on the line…"

"Clearly."

"I wasn't lying, you know…" I mumbled, fisting my sheets. "I really don't know how you got here. You just sorta…popped into existence. I had no intention of doing anything to you. I'm not that kind of person. I don't fuck with people's lives just to have fun…"

He remained silent. I sighed.

"Look...I still believe you're an _extremely_ realistic hallucination produced from my schizophrenic mind. I'm pretty dead set on that explanation," I said honestly. "Stereotypical ninja I know hide their face, wield swords, and are covered from head to toe in black clothing. They also can't stand on the ceiling. I'm just thinking logically here."

He still didn't say anything.

"But…I don't want to fight with you if I don't have to," I continued. "So, can we please start over and behave like civilized people and NOT kill each other?"

I swear I was going to throw a pen at him if he didn't say something soon. It was like talking to a wall. I took a deep breath before exhaling through my nose. Calm down, Lilith. After all, patience is a virtue.

"My name is Lilith Price," I began, holding out my hand in a hopefully friendly manner. "I like to read, watch movies, and listen to rock music. I hate people who judge someone before getting to know them. I want to be psychiatrist one day. So, Madara-sama. Truce?"

Still nothing. I threw a pen at him. It fell short of my target. Damn it. I had always had a horrible aim when it came to throwing things. That probably explained why I was always picked last in gym class whenever it came to dodgeball. Deciding not to worry about bothering Madara, I threw the covers off of me. I swayed a bit before regaining my footing. I stormed past Madara, but I stopped when I felt him grab my arm in a tight grip.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Nowhere. I'm going to get my phone and have a little chat with my friend."

To be perfectly honest, that was only half the reason. I wanted to get _away_ from Madara. That incident in the kitchen was _frightening_. I could handle anxiety to an extent, but everyone has a deep fear of something. I had slight arachnophobia and severe hemophobia. I could squish the damned critters with a shoe, but I got so squeamish when peeling the eight-legged bastards off even when using a tissue. The fear of blood on the other hand…seeing it made me sick to my stomach. I couldn't even look at someone who had a small papercut, I hated blood so much. That was one of the chief reasons why I NEVER wanted to become a surgeon or anyone who had to deal with blood when I grew up.

I tugged my arm loose from his grip, though I could still see the outline his hands had made on my skin. Yet _another_ bruise that would form, adding to my growing collection. I rushed down the hallway to the kitchen, grabbing my phone and swiftly punching in BaD's number. I felt my heart hammering in my chest and sweat trickling down the back of my neck. Could I say I had developed Madaraphobia? Quite possibly. There was a deep innate fear that was born a few hours ago in the kitchen. I wasn't sure if I would be able to hold a decent conversation with the guy without wanting to throw up in the nearest trash can.

I shook my head as I waited for BaD to pick up her damn phone. I needed drugs that I couldn't get until Monday. I needed familiarity. I needed someone sane to talk me back to my senses. The whole day had gone horribly. What did I do in life to deserve all this stress?

"Ello, ma mate!" I heard Bethany's familiar voice and breathed a deep sigh of relief. "I was actually about to call you myself, Lil! What's up? We already started!"

"Started what?" I asked.

"Um…Duh? The _Guitar Hero: Metallica_ extravaganza? Did you forget? How could you forget!? You LOVE Metallica! You were looking forward to it for so long! I even got Nathan to be here!"

"N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-N-NATHAN!?"

Nathan Cuttingham. My college crush and one of BaD's best friends. She had been trying to find ways for us to get together for the longest time since she knew about my crush on him. I would then tell her to fuck off since there was no way he'd ever fall for a street rat like me. He was one of the "upper class" of our society. The rich guys: the ones who could live their lives in regal splendor and never had to struggle.

Nathan was a nice guy and _hot as hell_. You know those guys who were muscular yet lean, the tall but too tall? The stereotypical guy a woman would be looking for when it came to appearance? Yeah, he defined the words "perfect man". I sighed in a dreamy way. Just thinking about him made my heart flutter in my chest in the good way. We were lab partners in our Chemistry class. We got to talking about each other as we waited for naphthalene to melt. He liked hard rock like I did and he enjoyed a good debate every so often. He wanted to be a chemical engineer and he played hockey when it came to be wintertime.

"You were supposed to be here half an hour ago. Did something come up?"

I peeked over my shoulder, hoping to the higher spiritual beings of the universe that Madara wasn't stalking me. He wasn't, thank heavens.

"You have _no_ idea, Beth…" I sighed in a depressed manner.

"What happened?" she instantly questioned, concerned about my well-being.

"I think…I may have lost my mind."

"…What?"

"You wouldn't understand. I may still need some sleep. You know how I stayed up two days in a row to study for that huge test? I may be seeing things because I didn't get enough sleep."

"You don't sound so good, Lil. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes! Perfectly peachy!" I replied quickly. She didn't need to know I might've gone insane and may be in danger since this hallucination seemed so damned _real_. "No need to worry! I'm sorry, but I don't think I'll be able to make it. You understand, don't you Beth?"

"I don't believe you." Damn it. She's observant. "You sound almost…frightened. Something happened, didn't it?"

I remained quiet. Should I tell her about Madara? No. I shouldn't have to lean on her so much. I was a grown independent woman. I needed to face and deal with my own problems on my own. She shouldn't have to worry over my mental state as well as my physical well-being.

"You weren't…violated, were you?"

"OF COURSE NOT!" I roared into the phone. How dare she bring up a something like that! She knew how I felt about that particular subject! "I'M STILL A VIRGIN!"

I slammed my free fist on the kitchen table. My hands were shaking. I may have been a woman, but growing up in the slums had toughened me up. I wasn't some goddamned dainty flower you needed to tiptoe around. I was the dandelion; the disgusting weed that never wanted to leave its home and continued growing, no matter how many times you pulled it out. I had witnessed things no child should ever have to watch. Life ain't all sunshine and daisies; I knew that. That's why we soldier on and face our problems, no matter how uncomfortable and painful it may be.

"I'm sorry! That was stupid of me! Forgive me!"

I breathed deeply through my nose. Breathe and exhale. Breathe and exhale. No need to get worked up. Find your nirvana. Find your happy place. No bad memories. No idiot blondes. No Madara.

That incident in the kitchen wasn't the only time I had a panic attack. I had them in the past after a certain…_incident_ happened. I refused to go into detail since I had tried for years to expel the memory from my mind. Twirling one of the brown bangs framing my face, I reveled in the quiet that had descended upon the kitchen after my outburst. That calm was welcoming; not at all like the suffocating silence that Madara spewed out when he refused to talk.

I heard a crash come from my bedroom.

Silence broken. Thank you very much, you asshole.

"Lil? What was that noise?"

"Nothing! Everything's fine!" I hastily said.

"…If you say so," Beth conceded. "But you're not getting off this scot-free."

"What do you want as compensation?"

"I know! I'll ask Nathan to take you out on a date!" she squealed. I choked on my own spit. "Is Monday good for you?"

"Beth!" I tried to say in between coughing fits.

"Okay! That's great! He'll see you Monday at two!"

"Wait, Beth—" Click.

Shit.

"Madara! If you messed with my PC, I swear, I don't care if you _are_ a ninja; I'm going to castrate you with a rubber band! Don't think I won't!" I yelled as I ran to the room after putting my phone down.

Instead of finding a broken PC, I found Madara holding one of the many DVDs I had stored in my room. My entire collection had collapsed from the shelf it was on, causing a huge crashing noise as they all clattered to the floor. I sighed in relief. He didn't break anything. That meant I didn't need to kill myself trying to emasculate him with a rubber band. Thank fucking god. I noticed which DVD he was holding; it was _WALL-E_. I smiled. Good ol' Disney and some humor would do me some good for my mental health. I took the DVD out of the ninja's hand, causing him to look at me as if he just noticed my presence since I was such a lowly being and he shouldn't bother with noticing me.

Screw your superiority complex, ya dick.

"Thank you," I thanked him sarcastically.

"What is that?" he asked.

"It's a DVD," I told him. "Unlike the one that brought you here, this one is normal. It lets you watch certain movies or shows on a TV."

"Tee-vee? Dee-vee-dee?"

"Do you want to find out?"

"No."

" I know what you're thinking and you are not going out _anywhere_, Madara-sama," I told him in a stern voice. I was completely serious about that. "It's 9:00 at night in _Detroit_. Lots of bad things can happen when it gets dark. So, take a load off and take the stick that's stuck up your ass out."

"Why should I listen to you, servant girl?" he snapped, causing me to visibly flinch. I hated that tone he always seemed to use. It was so haughty and cold at the same time. I half wanted to slap the guy and half wanted to hide under my bed, stay there, and never come out to see the light of society again.

"Because you don't have any idea where you're going and we have laws here that need to be followed," I reasoned. "That means no sneaking around like a stalker and killing people in the night, Madara. We have enough idiots living in this city who do that on a daily basis. We don't need another one in this world."

He was silent. He couldn't argue with the fact that he was a complete stranger to the world of reality. Compared to whatever fantasy world he lived in in my mind, he was out of his element. Whether he liked it or not, it seemed like he still needed me for information on how to function in reality until he could return to ko-no-ha-ga-koo-rae. I also think that another reason why I was still alive was the fact that he was naturally curious as to how the advanced technology we had worked and what purposes they served for. He was too engrossed in looking at everything instead of focusing on killing me. So my mental state was safe for now.

Score one for me, bitches.

But dealing with such a being, one who could instill fear into someone just by _looking_ at you, was not going to be easy. Even as I was talking to him, I could feel my hands trembling and my heart beating in my throat. The only way to get over your fear was to stand up, take it like a fucking man, and face it head on. I slowly made a move to grab his hand. He quickly moved his hand out of reach after seeing what I was doing.

Shot down. Crash and burn. Explosion. Epic failure. Way ta go, dumbass.

"Eff you," I muttered under my breath as I stormed out of my bedroom.

So much for being civil and asking whether or not he wanted to watch it with me. Why did I fucking bother? He was a freakin' homicidal ninja that was out for my guts once I stopped being useful to him. It was a rather stupid move on my part, to be honest. I mean, why in the seven hells would a ninja want to watch Disney? I hastily put the DVD in my DVD player connected to my TV. The thing eventually booted up and I was able to watch one of my favorite little robots. It was about halfway through the show that I think Madara decided that he became too curious as to why I was laughing my ass off and wanted to find out what was causing it. He stood in the hallway, looking oddly at the robots on the screen.

"Couldn't resist, could you?" I asked him.

"What's happening?"

"I'm not obligated to tell you anything, asshole," I snapped angrily, though my pounding heart spoke another story. "But if you must know, it's a children's movie. Not something you would want to see, Madara-sama."

I wasn't sure if I pissed him off there. It was nearly impossible to determine what that hallucination was thinking with that damnable poker face he had up ninety-five percent of the time. You only had the smallest twitches of his mouth and the slightest narrowing of his eyes to go by. He stayed leaning on the hallway wall, watching in morbid curiosity as the robots interacted. I had a terrible time. Trying to watch something cheery while a ninja ruined it because you were afraid of him was a horrible experience. Eventually the DVD ended, leaving me with Madara again in a quiet empty room. Without something light removing my focus from the tension, I felt my hands trembling again. It was 11:40pm, which meant that it should be time for me to go to sleep. Yet I didn't want to. There was a frickin' ninja that could kill me in my house. As soon as I got to sleep, he could easily slit my throat and be on his merry way.

I heard a gunshot outside in the distance. I flinched as Madara leapt off the wall, his coal eyes bleeding red and prepared to fight whatever was making the noise. More gunfire sounded out, echoing through the night and the sound waves seemed to bounce off the walls in my house.

I wasn't safe. Not safe. Not safe. Not safe. No matter where I was, I was not safe.

Screaming. More gunfire. Silence.

Not safe. Not safe. Not safe. Don't panic. Breathe. This is normal. This happens all the time. Someone would get shot; the police would get there an hour later, the victim already dead. Happens all the time. Don't panic. Breathe.

"Someone died," I explained blankly, answering the unasked question. He focused on me, his eyes slightly wide. I stared at the floor, gripping my fists tightly to prevent them from shaking.

Stop looking. Stop judging. Stop panicking. Stop being a fucking wuss.

"This happens all the time."

"All the time," he repeated. "And you're okay with it, servant girl?"

"Of course I'm not fucking okay with it," I snapped. "But what can I do? I barely have enough to get by. If I had the money, hell yes I would relocate. I told you before; it's not safe to be out wandering around Detroit after dark. There are maniacs everywhere. They will shoot you and kill you; sometimes for no fucking reason at all other than just being there in the wrong place at the wrong time. I live everyday knowing that I could be mugged, stripped, raped, and then shot to be left for dead at any time."

I flopped down on the couch, closing my eyes. "You would understand, wouldn't you Madara-sama? You're a ninja, right? You lived in Japan's feudal times where every day could be your last. You probably lost people close to you. Friends, comrades, and family; they were harmed in some shape or form, weren't they? It's reality we live in and we gotta deal with it. I'm just doing my best to play with the cards that life has dealt to me…"

I felt myself drifting off despite my best efforts to stay awake just to be sure Madara wouldn't kill me once I closed my eyes. I'd consider myself lucky if I woke up the next morning alive.

* * *

**Poor Lilith gets a slap in the face with KI and now she's frightened of Madara, even though she still thinks he's a figment of her schizophrenic imagination. Who _wouldn't_ be scared of that guy after he gets serious? Please review and tell me what you think.  
**


	4. BaD

I woke up to the sounds of birds chirping outside my house. I groaned as I attempted to roll into a better position on my bed.

"OOF!"

Unfortunately, I had forgotten that I had slept on the couch the previous night. So, instead of rolling into a better position, I ended up rolling off the couch and I landed on the ground in a disheveled lump. I cursed under my breath as I rubbed the throbbing area on my head where it made contact with my floor. Yesterday's events slowly began coming back to me. My computer brought a deadly, but unexpectedly handsome, ninja into my life; ergo, I went insane.

Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight.

I breathed a sigh of relief. So Madara didn't kill me in my sleep. That was a good sign to me. But the bad news was that I had no clue where the ninja went after I fell asleep. Instantly worried about the state of my house, I hopped to my feet and went off towards the different areas of the house. I went through the laundry room, my bedroom, the "batcave", and even my backyard. Nothing. So, that left the kitchen as the last place that needed to be checked.

Surprise, surprise; he was there. I stood awkwardly in the entryway, observing him in the middle of the kitchen as he took a bite of some whole wheat bread. He eyed me with the same look he always had; that look of indifference, yet one of superiority. My eyes then drifted to the ruined state my kitchen was in. Cupboards were thrown open and various containers of spices and herbs were placed in various spots on the kitchen counter. My refrigerator was wide open, and the neatly organized shelves were now bare since the food was all placed on the table in a messy fashion. I grabbed my hair, tugging on it as I bit my lip in frustration. I was extremely OCD about organizing things in my kitchen. I had organized all my food and nonperishables in a nice fashion specifically so I could find something when I needed it. And Madara just freakin' ruined it for god knows what reason!

"What did you do to my kitchen!?" I yelled at him.

"I did nothing to it, servant girl," he curtly replied.

"Bullshit! Explain why all my food is out in the open; or so help me Madara, I will cut all your hair off! Don't think I won't!"

"I was checking them for toxins," he stated simply as if he were talking about the weather outside. He took another bite out of the bread slice he held.

"Say _what_!?"

"I do not trust you, servant girl," Madara explained. "You seem incompetent, but you're smarter than you look. I'd be a fool to think I'd be out of danger just because you're a civilian."

"You…ruined my organized kitchen…to make sure my food wasn't _poisoned_?" I repeated through clenched teeth. See how OCD I was about my kitchen? I didn't even care that Madara insulted my intelligence; he ruined my organized kitchen. He would die _today_. This, I swore! "Dude…Did you care to _think_ that if the food was poisoned, I'd be dead myself by now?"

"Or you developed immunity to whatever poison you had."

"Screw your reasoning, asshole!" I snapped. "I hate you so much right now…"

"You and everyone else in Konoha…" he muttered back under his breath, though I still caught what he said.

That was an odd thing to say. He wanted to return home, but people hated him there? Although I was curious as to what he meant, I decided against it. I did not want a repeat of what happened yesterday and have another unneeded panic attack. That was the last thing I needed when I woke up in the morning.

I kept quiet as I made my way to go back and reorganize my food back to the way it was before. I silently watched Madara as he made his way through eating my wheat bread. I guess he still didn't trust any of the additions he could have put on there to make it a sandwich. That or he had no taste in food. I was suspecting the former was the reason why. By the time I was done putting all my food back to the way it was, Madara had finished my entire loaf of wheat bread. Men and their monstrous appetites; I swear, I think their stomachs are actually black holes in disguise.

"Why, _thank you_ for eating all my wheat bread," I sarcastically remarked as I took the plastic wrapping and threw it away in my trashcan. "And you didn't even use any lunchmeat or cheese or anything to make sandwiches. Too much work for your lazy butt?"

"Be quiet," he ordered.

"You know," I said, trying to ignore the intense pounding in my chest. Like hell was I gonna let Madara step all over me like a rug, despite how frickin' scared I was of him. "When people tell others to 'be quiet', it usually means what was said was true. What do you say to that?"

Madara said nothing.

"Methinks someone can't come up with an answer."

"Methinks someone is itching to be burned alive," Madara replied in a deathly calm voice.

"Shutting up now, sir!" I squeaked out as I felt that horrible sensation of my life being threatened.

I went back to getting myself breakfast. This time, I was just gonna have some traditional cereal; good ol' Cheerios. As I poured the milk into my cereal-filled bowl, I absentmindedly wondered if Madara was going to have gas later. I mean, he DID eat an entire loaf of whole wheat bread. As soon as the very image hit my mind, I choked on my spit. Just thinking about the concept of a stoic ninja like Madara "playing music" out his rear end was a gut-buster. Hey! Now that I thought about it, maybe THAT'S why he was such an asshole! He's constipated! That idea made me choke on my spit all over again. As I attempted to stop my huge coughing fit, I ended up spilling milk on myself and over my counter in the process.

"You are truly an odd woman," I heard Madara say from his seat at the table. "What are you laughing about?"

"Nothing!" I said as I attempted to hold in my laughter, but I was failing miserably. I placed my hand over my mouth. "Nothing at all. Don't talk to me. You'll only make it worse."

"And why is that?"

"I can't tell you…" I barely managed to say through my giggles. "You'd maim me if you knew…"

"Humor me," he dared, turning to face me in his chair.

"Ok. You asked for it," I said, wondering if he was going to allow me to write my will once I was done saying it. Oh well. You only live once, right? Time to seal my fate. "Madara-sama, do you ever whistle from the lower hole?"

There was a _looooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooong_ awkward silence as Mr. Ninja comprehended what I said. Madara's stoic façade fell and he gave me the most baffled look I had seen on his features yet. I guess I was the first person to ever ask such a question of him, especially one as vulgar as that one. I mentally cackled at his expression. The raised eyebrow just about killed me. I was going to enjoy every minute of this weird moment before I died.

"Come _again_?" he questioned in disbelief.

"You _know_…" I repeated, still smiling deviously. "Cut the cheese? Beep your horn? Let it rip? Exhume the dinner course? Human hydrogen bomb? Rectal turbulence?"

Another _looooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooong _awkward silence. I almost didn't catch his answer, but I did.

"…Doesn't everyone?" he finally answered, although in an extremely quiet voice. I think my eyes were playing tricks on me, but I thought I saw a faint red color tint his cheeks for the briefest of moments.

HOLY SHIT! He _admitted_ it! Score, bitches!

I turned around and bit into my hand as I attempted to not burst out laughing. I slammed my fist onto the kitchen counter multiple times as a different way to express my extreme amusement. Madara continued watching my strange behavior with an air of indifference.

"You find such grotesque topics funny, do you?"

I snorted as I stopped biting my hand, ignoring the marks imbedded in my skin. I took a few deep breaths. "_No_! Nothing's funny! I'm just having trouble breathing."

"Because you're _laughing_," he snapped, his eyes narrowing in distaste at me.

I returned biting my hand, my body shaking from holding in my laughter. This was funnier than Peanut poking fun at José Jalapeño on a Stick in my Jeff Dunham DVDs! This was funnier than listening to the sarcastic quips from genius billionaire playboy philanthropist, Tony Stark from _Iron Man_! Hell, it was funnier than calling Edward Cullen a pixie when I saw the _Twilight_ movie!

"I'm sorry! That image is _soooooo_ wrong, but that's why it's hilarious!" I cried as tears finally began leaking from my eyes.

"You're a _sick_ woman," Madara growled.

"So is the rest of humanity," I shot back, turning to face him. "Welcome to _my_ world, Madara-sama."

I then blinked as I took notice of Madara's face; or more precisely, his mouth. There were some leftover bread crumbs clinging to his skin, reminding me of a toddler being a messy eater. It made him look almost cute in a way. Despite my beating heart, I walked up to him. He eyed my every move, determining if I was going to try and pull a stunt. I hesitantly brought my hand closer to his face once I was near him. He grabbed my wrist in a split second, holding it in a death-like grip since he didn't trust what I was doing.

"I was just going to point out that you have bread crumbs on your face, Madara-sama," I told him, though I was wincing from the growing pain in my wrist. I motioned my fingers towards certain spots. "There's a few clinging to you chin, three that are sticking from the edge of your mouth, and one that somehow made its way onto your cheek. How did you manage that?"

Madara opened his mouth to say something in response, but I never got to hear it. He was interrupted by the sound of my doorbell ringing. He released my wrist, allowing me to go and see who was at the door. I took a few seconds to compose myself and wipe the tears that had trailed down my cheeks from earlier. It was a great distraction at the right time. Once I was done, I went to the front door in my living room. I opened the creaky thing and was practically glomped by something, or rather _someone_.

"Surprise!" Bethany exclaimed. "I decided to visit! Aren't you happy?"

"Hi Beth," I greeted the blonde.

She was wearing a nice black t-shirt which complimented her white jacket. She had a pair of blue jean capris and white sneakers. Her blonde hair was tied up in a ponytail and her bangs were parted to highlight her pretty hazel eyes. She patted my shoulder a few times.

"I got a bit worried about you, so I decided to come and pay you a visit," she explained. "If I told you I was coming over, you would've tried to prevent me from doing so. Ya gotta stop being such a stick-in-the-mud, Lil!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," I said.

"You alright?"

"Oh, I'm jolly good!" I replied sarcastically. "Things have been just _peachy_!"

"That means 'no'," she sighed. "What happened?"

"Well—"

"Are those _bruises_!?" BaD exclaimed in shock.

I inwardly groaned. I had forgotten about the various bruises I had acquired since Madara came into my home. I had one on my back, one on my face, one on my forehead, two on my wrists, and one on my arm. Another one was slowly forming on my hand from pounding it into my kitchen counter earlier.

"I kinda did a number on myself yesterday…" I said. I honestly believed I had caused those bruises since Madara was just a product of my imagination.

"Bullshit!" Beth snapped angrily. "These look like they were given to you by someone else! Stop lying, Lilith. Who did this to you? Is this why you didn't want to come yesterday?"

"Beth—"

"Don't you 'Beth' me! I'm your friend! If someone is hurting you, I have the right to know who the dick is!"

"Servant girl," I heard Madara call me.

I turned to look at the ninja standing in the kitchen entryway. I saw that the bread crumbs from his face were now gone, which made me a bit depressed. He looked more human and seemed more approachable with a crumby face. But I never got anything I wished for in life, so I had to set myself up for disappointment. Madara was eyeing BaD with apprehension. So he didn't know about my best friend either? Did he know ANYTHING about me!? Apparently not. Beth paused in mid-action, seemingly looking in the direction Madara was at with her jaw hanging open.

"Not now," I snapped at the ninja. "Let me have—"

"HOLY YANKEE-DOODLE ON A MACARONI!" Beth squealed as she zoomed past me.

I felt my jaw drop as the blonde tackle-glomped Madara. Somehow, the ninja remained standing and he was looking oddly at the girl currently hugging the life out of his torso. I blinked repeatedly. That wasn't possible. Madara was a hallucination produced from my schizophrenic mind. He wasn't real. Yet, Beth was slowly crushing his ribs. That meant one of two things: either Beth was part of my schizophrenic hallucinations now or Madara was actually real and alive. The former seemed more accurate, so I was more inclined to believe it.

"This is amazing!" Beth cried.

"Beth…?" I quietly peeped.

"Just look at this aesthetically pleasing armor!" Beth said in awe, poking Madara's red armor. "It's accurately made and it looks legitimate."

"Who is this?" Madara demanded from me as Beth continued poking him in various places, some of which were rather inappropriate.

"This is Bethany Dale, my best friend," I answered with a groan, slamming my palm to my forehead.

"Oh Em Gee!" Beth shrieked as she grabbed two fistfuls of his hair. She began nuzzling her face into it. "This is your real hair!? It's sooooooo _soft_! I love it! What shampoo and conditioner do you use? I gotta know!"

"Beth…" I said. "Stop."

BaD backed away from Madara, taking in his full form as she put a finger to her chin. She then closed her eyes, crossed her arms, and began nodding.

"Yep. It's incredible."

"What is?" I asked.

"This is by far the absolute _**BEST**_ cosplay I have ever seen in my life!" Beth answered.

"EH!?"

"Oh, you wouldn't know, would you, Lil?" Beth said. "It's a _Naruto_ thing! Don't worry about it. But still; tell me who he is!"

"What do you mean, 'tell you who he is'? You should know."

"No, I don't. I mean, I know which character he is, but not _who_ he is. Is he your boyfriend?"

"_**WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT!?**_" I screamed. Beth was unfazed and Madara had a confused frown on his face, probably wondering why the hell being a 'boyfriend' was such a big deal.

"That explains _everything_!" she gleefully cried. "You're so busy thinking about your new boyfriend that you keep running into things! _That's_ why you have so many bruises! I wouldn't blame you. This one is fine like wine, girl! Good job!"

"B-B-B-B-B-Beth!" I squeaked, a blush staining my face red. Madara was taking everything in stride, looking as indifferent as ever except for that confused frown he still had.

"It also explains why you didn't come yesterday! You two were busy making out and you didn't want me to know, right?"

"HELL NO!" I snapped. "Madara and I weren't making out! He—"

BaD gasped, interrupting me. "His name is _Madara_!? Oh, SNAP! Girl, you are one lucky chick! I can think of ten thousand other fangirls who would kill to have a hot boyfriend that not only looks like a legitimate Madara in cosplay, but his actual name is Madara too! But what should I tell Nathan? If you have a boyfriend already, that's gonna be a love triangle. Those are always messy things to deal with."

"BETHANY! Madara isn't my boyfriend!"

"He's not?"

"NO! I'd rather date a log than this insufferable bastard!" I yelled, jabbing a finger in Madara's direction.

"Care to repeat that, servant girl?" Madara sneered at me, causing shivers to travel up and down my spine.

"Servant girl?" Bethany repeated in confusion.

"I give up…I just frickin' give up…" I moaned, holding my hand to my forehead in exasperation. "I need drugs…"

"Lil? Seriously, what's wrong?" BaD asked me, her features contorting with worry.

"I've gone _crazy_!" I shouted at her, all the frustration I felt pouring out at once. "This is all your fucking fault, ya know that!? You HAD to stop to buy _Naruto_ crap from a freaky guy in a bathrobe! You HAD to blackmail me into watching that fuckin' DVD! I HAD to listen to you! I can't take all this stress!"

BaD had the patience and the supportive love of a saint, I swear. Bethany shushed me in a soothing manner, placing her hands on my shaking shoulders as I took deep breaths. She wrapped me in a warm hug, which helped calm me down. Sometimes, a simple hug could work miracles for someone.

"Did you get it all off your chest?" she asked nicely.

"Emotionally, yes…But my boobs still count, so not entirely…" I muttered. Beth let out a small laugh.

"At least your dry humor is back. Now…start from the beginning. What happened?"

"I don't think you'll believe me," I stated.

"Come on! Tell me!" she goaded.

"No! Why don't you ask Mr. Perfect over there what happened!? I sure as hell don't know!"

To be perfectly honest, Madara said nothing about his side of the story. I knew what happened with me, but what about him? I knew he would never tell me anything, even if I _did_ ask him.

"So, Madara," BaD said in a happy tone to the ninja, suddenly appearing in front of him. "You mind telling me how you came across Lilith?"

Holy crap, she was going through with it!

"…I fell into this room and the girl was there," he explained. "Nothing more."

Beth laughed. "No, seriously. Where did you meet? At the Red Robin she works at? At a bus stop? At college? Where? I need specifics."

"No. He's telling the truth. He _literally_ fell into my room after I put that damned DVD of yours into my computer," I added. "There was a lot of whirring and bright light. Next second, I feel my floor shake and there he was with an Ass Fan."

"It's not an 'Ass Fan', servant girl! It's a gunbai!" he snapped at me in anger.

"Is it a fan?" I questioned him.

"Yes."

"Does it look like two interconnected circles?"

"Yes."

"Hence, it is shaped like a butt. So, it's an 'Ass Fan'!"

"It's a battle fan, you idiot! I have killed—"

"So it DOES blow people's asses! I freakin' _knew_ it!"

Beth died in that moment. She took "rolling on the floor laughing" to a whole new level that day. I wouldn't blame her. After all, we were arguing over what to call Madara's Ass Fan. Who wouldn't laugh at what we were saying? I felt Madara grab the front of my shirt, bringing my face to his. I let out a small "meep" as I saw his eyes bleed red. I felt my heart hammering in my chest again. I instantly wished I hadn't said anything about his crumby face earlier. He would've looked less intimidating that way.

"My patience with you is growing thin, servant girl. Do not test it. Otherwise, I might not be able to resist the urge to slit your throat next time."

A loud smack echoed through the room in the next moment. My eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets as I saw the slowly reddening area on Madara's cheek. Even _he_ was visibly shocked at what happened. If it was capable of doing so, my jaw would've dropped to the floor. BaD was glaring fiercely at Madara, her hand looking just as red as Madara's cheek.

She had just bitch-slapped him.

Holy shit. Way ta go, sistah! I had a whole new respect for you!

"Put. Her. Down," she demanded calmly, her voice scaring me with how deadly serious it was. Madara eyed her with his freaky red eyes. "Drop the cosplay façade. This is going too far."

"Don't you know who I am?" he said. "I'm under no obligation to listen to you, wench."

"You really believe you're Madara Uchiha, don't you? Well, you're doing a fabulous job."

He dropped me, letting me fall butt-first on the floor. I was really panicking now. My heart was hurting my chest because of how fast it was pounding. I didn't want BaD to be hurt by Madara. She was like an older sister to me.

"Then you _do_ know of me," he said, grabbing hold of Beth's neck and glaring at her with his bipolar eyes. "If that's the case, who are you to talk so casually as if you personally know me? How much do you know?"

"You really _are_ him…aren't you? _Sweet_!" Beth coughed out, smiling despite the horrible position she was in.

"Talk, woman. Or I'll snap your neck here and now."

"Madara Uchiha," Bethany began. "Older brother of Izuna Uchiha, who died because of Tobirama Senju's Flying Thunder God Slash. Your best friend is Hashirama Senju. You personally gave the name "the Village Hidden in the Leaves" to the village you and Hashirama created together. It was based off a childhood dream you two shared."

Beth let out a yelp when Madara suddenly increased his grip on Beth's neck. I was still sitting on the floor like a loser, completely frozen from shock and fear. He somehow managed to look deadly calm and pissed off at the same time. Beth grabbed hold of his arm with both hands, futilely trying to loosen the death grip Madara had on her neck.

"_How_?" he hissed out. "How is it _possible_ for you to know that!? That dream…we told no one of it! How is it that a civilian like you knows this!?"

"I got it from the internet!" Beth choked out. I still didn't understand how she was still smiling when Madara could end her life at any moment. It was beyond my comprehension. "The internet is the best place to stalk people and they would never find out! It's like a tool for espionage, only more convenient and much harder to trace without the right equipment."

"I see...the 'in-ter-net'…"

Madara loosened his grip on BaD's neck. I couldn't tell if he was shocked or not since his face went from anger back to his neutral expression he always had. He was probably plotting various ways to kill the internet to stop it from spreading information that shouldn't be seen by the public eye. The blonde took a deep breath as she watched Madara's reaction.

"Don't worry, Uchiha-sama," Beth said, continuing to smile brightly despite her close encounter with death. "America may be an arrogant and prideful country, but she doesn't enter a fight unless she deems it necessary. After all, we Americans have had our own share of problems and wars, just like you and your clan had. We wouldn't dare harm Konoha or the people who live there since they live in relative peace. We wouldn't want to disrupt that."

Madara was silent, apparently analyzing her words for any sincerity to see if she was lying.

"I understand that you're the _real_ Madara Uchiha," she continued. "Your eyes went from black to red. No cosplayer could ever mimic activating the Sharingan at will. That's something only an Uchiha would be able to do. Forgive me and my friend's rudeness, sir."

Still nothing from Mr. Ninja.

"And I also want you to know that I have no intention of using the knowledge I have to harm you, your clan, your friends, or your home in any way. It's just that you're such an amazing individual that I wanted to discover how such a powerful man came to be. Every great man has an equally great history behind him, whether blissful or terrible. So, I used the internet to help me become informed of your background; nothing more."

"And you expect me to believe such a tale?"

"_Yes_, because it's the _truth_! Does this look like the face of a liar to you?" Bethany then gave Madara her best "puppy" look while pulling out her wallet out of her pocket and showing him a cute picture of her and her pet pug.

"…Either you two are deceptively good actors or you're complete and utter morons to try and pull stunts like this with me," Madara stated bluntly after a few more minutes of silence.

"Thank you?" Beth said awkwardly, unsure how to answer that statement.

"Very well. It seems you two are the latter. I will take your word for it…for now," he said, releasing his grip on Beth's throat. "However, if I find you using this knowledge to try and harm Konoha, I will not hesitate to kill you; civilian women or not."

"Crystal clear, sir!" Beth said, saluting the ninja like a soldier would to their general. "Since it's our fault as to why you ended up in America in the first place, Lilith and I will help you get back home to Konoha! It's the least we can do."

"SAY WHAT!?" I finally blurted out. "Beth! What are you talking about? This is crazy!"

"Let me explain, Lil," BaD said, helping me up and leading me to the couch so I could sit down. "This man is Madara Uchiha. He's the Head of the Uchiha Clan. They're a group of highly skilled ninjas who are rivals with the Senju, another ninja clan. Madara is by far the strongest of his clan, which is why he's the leader."

"Wait…so he's REAL!?" I cried in horror. "He actually exists and ISN'T a figment of imagination!?"

"Yes."

"I COULD HAVE LITERALLY DIED YESTERDAY!? HOLY FUCK!"

"Unfortunately yes," Bethany said uneasily. "We'll have to figure out how to get him home to Konoha. Until then, I think he should stay with you."

"Absolutely _not_! We barely get along as is! If he stays, he's gonna kill me!"

"He won't. Not without a good reason, at least. Madara only knows the two of us in this world. He probably would feel more secure if he was with you since he's gotten to know a bit about you and he doesn't deem you too big a threat. Besides, who knows how long he'll be stuck with us? He needs to 'fit in' with American society. Who else would be better at teaching that than you, Senpai?"

"I'm not listening! LALALALALALALALALALALALA!" I said, covering my ears with my hands.

"Lilith? Come on. Where's the compassionate, innocent girl who would help anyone if they needed it that I know is there inside you?"

"She died eleven years ago," I snapped.

"Then think of it this way; the sooner we deal with him, the sooner he'll be out of your hair!"

That was very true and I couldn't argue with that. I pouted, which was rather childish of me. But seriously! Who would WANT to house a potentially dangerous ninja in their home for an extended period of time!? I sure as hell didn't! I barely made it through _one_ day!

I let out a big sigh, scratching my head in exasperation. "Alright, fine…but I won't enjoy it based on what I've experienced already."

"Great!" BaD cheered. She then turned to Madara, who was currently glaring a figurative hole through my wall. "Aren't you lucky, Uchiha-sama? You're rooming with a female!"

"Absolutely not. I refuse to share the same room with such an unsightly woman."

"Eff you, ya dick!" I yelled at him, feeling rather offended. "The feeling is mutual! I'd rather room with cockroaches!"

"Sorry, but neither of you have any choice in the matter," Beth said bluntly.

"Why me…?"

"Well, we _could_ easily call our police and have them lock Madara up for threatening with a deadly weapon, physical assault, attempted murder, and probably a lot of other charges. But I _cannot_ allow the government to get their hands on him for specific reasons."

"For the _last_ time, Beth; there is **_no_ **legitimate proof that the CIA is trying to take over the world!" I groaned, face-palming at BaD's stupid logic. "It's all conspiracy theory and movie crap! _None_ of it is real! Get that through your thick skull!"

"NEVAH! The CIA is all lies! Do not believe her words, Uchiha-sama! They have a top secret world domination plan and an equally secret super-soldier army somewhere; I just _know_ it!" Beth cried.

"Yeah, right. And _I'll_ become Madara's _wife_," I said sarcastically.

"I wouldn't be captured by mere civilians," Madara snapped at BaD, sounding insulted by the very thought of such a thing happening to him. "My pride would never allow it to happen."

"Look, Madara," Beth continued. "Joke or not; if you try to escape from the law, the police will shoot you with guns and and the FBI will provide snipers. They're faster and far more deadly than any accurately thrown kunai or any exploding tags used by an enemy ninja. If you get shot multiple times or even just once in the head or the heart, you're pretty much screwed. Our police officers have access to many weapon advantages and the FBI even more so. No matter how great a ninja you are—even _with_ your Sharingan—I highly doubt you could handle gunfire, potential blindness, over a thousand volts of electricity shot from tasers, and explosives ten times stronger than exploding tags without getting mortally wounded at some point."

He then glared in annoyance at the both of us.

"Besides," Beth motioned to his clothing. "You can't wander around dressed like _that_. You'll be labeled a lunatic and thrown into a psychiatric ward or you'll be mobbed by fangirls. Neither are nice options. You're gonna need to blend into our society, which is going to be difficult for you. America and the Elemental Nations have not only very different cultural customs, but different levels of technology. Take the internet for an example; it's open for anyone to use as long as they have a computer, which is a device that is unavailable in the Elemental Nations."

He paled a bit. "_Everyone_? What's the population of this 'America'?"

"Oh, I don't know…" I said, putting a finger to my chin. "Over three hundred million, I guess? But the key word is _everyone_, which means that it includes other countries around the world. So, over six billion people could potentially learn everything about you."

I think I mentally scarred Madara by saying that. His face got paler and his eyes held a nervous glint to them, although his expression remained neutral. I wouldn't blame him for reacting that way. He's a ninja; they're all about being inconspicuous and keeping secrets. To learn that those secrets weren't secrets anymore _and_ were available to other people around the whole _world_ to see would be traumatizing for anyone. That's the danger with the internet. Just about anyone can learn about you if you post up stuff about yourself.

"If it makes you feel any better, we have stalker-ish information on Hashirama and Tobirama too! So you're not the only one being stalked by billions of people!" Beth added in, which seemed to only make things worse.

"…I have no choice in the matter, do I?" he muttered under his breath, palming his face with his hand.

"Great! Since he understands, let's start with his assimilation to Americanism right now!" BaD shouted, hopping off the couch in an excited manner. "Take it away, Lil! We're gonna make Uchiha-sama the best Japanese-American ever!"

I smirked at Madara's expression. He looked like he'd rather take a knife and cut off his luscious hair than listen to Beth say anything more about stalking him, his village, his friends, and his clan. I was a bit surprised at how willing he seemed to be about the whole mess. Maybe he was reserved to do whatever it took in order to return home to Konoha and get as far away from us as possible? Well, I sure as hell was gonna make him _work_ for it.

"Alright, Grasshopper," I told Madara. He gave me a quizzical look at the nickname. "I hope you're ready. Prepared to be schooled in the art of being an American."

* * *

**So here we see Bethany's reaction to seeing Madara and Lilith discovers that Madara ISN'T a hallucination and she's NOT crazy! And Madara now knows that there are _millions_ of stalkers on the internet who know every single detail about him (*cough* via Narutopedia *cough*). So, how does one train someone to be an "American"? You'll have to wait and see what these two girls have in store!**


	5. Confusion

I grunted, my mouth forming a deep frown as I concentrated on not tripping over my own feet. I had a ton of history books I was carrying through the hallway towards the kitchen. Before I decided I wanted to be a psychiatrist, I was thinking about going into a history major. So, I had a decent portion of books that covered from the 1900s onwards. So, that meant Madara would be learning about our greatest victories and failures and all the horrors in between. They even had some really graphic photos that were taken. I was half hoping it wouldn't bring up any bad memories for him.

I mentally slapped myself. Why did I care about what he felt? He certainly didn't deserve any pity from me after the things he put me through already! Why Beth told me to take care of him was beyond me when we could barely get along. Beth had left since she had to get to work and the visit wasn't meant to be long. But before she left, she gave me some ideas of where to start teaching Madara. Modern day topics such as the internet, Facebook, and all that jazz were more prevalent than history, but history was always interesting to learn. We learn from the mistakes of our past so we can better move forward in the future.

My eyes widened when I stepped on my other foot, causing me to lose balance. I let out a shriek as I tumbled forward, waiting for the inevitable faceplant into my floor. But I oddly stopped about midway through. I blinked as to why I was suspended when I was leaning over like the Tower of Pisa. That's when I noticed things that were placed on my upper arms, holding me up and preventing me from falling.

I would know those gloves anywhere.

I let out another shriek, this one a combination of embarrassment and fear. I quickly regained my footing, wanting to exit the grip of those hands as soon as possible. A terrible blush had appeared on my face, making me shrink behind the tower of books I was carrying.

"Sorry, Madara-sama! I didn't see you!" I blurted out, my heart pounding like a jackhammer.

"If you weren't carrying so much at one time, you wouldn't have to worry about running into things, you idiot," he scoffed at me.

"Sorry…about getting in your way…" I mumbled.

My heart was pounding in my chest, but this time it wasn't from my fear of him. It was something else. I actually felt…touched that he bothered to catch my fall. I shook my head. I was just in his way, that's all. He would have let me fall otherwise. He probably would be sneering down at me if it did happen.

"You weren't in my way."

I jerked my head up. "Huh?"

"I heard you scream like the little girl that you are. It wouldn't be beneficial for me if you hurt yourself now, would it?"

"Gee, _thanks_!" I said sarcastically. "I really am just a frickin' object to you, aren't I!?"

I moved around him, using his feet to determine where he was in the hallway. I stomped to my kitchen counter, slamming the books on it in frustration. Typical me; I think I find something nice about the guy and he just proves me wrong. A selfish bastard was what he was, no matter how handsome!

A cloud of dust poofed out when the books landed on the counter and I made the mistake of inhaling it. I sneezed loudly, the sound reverberating through the house. I hadn't touched the books in a couple months and dust accumulates like shit in my house, which is why I constantly had to keep cleaning it. I separated all the books and put them in order of a timeline; World War I, beginning of the Cold War, Vietnam War, World War II, The Great Depression, et cetera.

"What are all those?"

I screamed in shock, not expecting Madara to suddenly just appear right next to me. He was looking over my shoulder, eyeing the books with a blank look. I nearly wanted to take one of the heavier ones and slam it in his face, but I knew it would be futile. He had Spiderman's reflexes and Superman's strength, I swear.

"Books you can read in your spare time," I answered quietly, my heart pounding in my chest all over again. I was blushing fiercely at how close his body was to mine. Whether he noticed or not, he didn't seem to care. "These are all the ones I have. If you end up getting interested, I can always go to the library and pick up some more for you. And then, I gotta go shopping for you too."

I turned my head, looking at his visible eye. I briefly wondered if he would look better or worse without the curtain of hair that hung over his other eye. It bothered me that I could barely see it at times. My hand moved on its own, wanting to move that curtain away and reveal the rest of his face to the world. I then stopped. What the hell was I thinking!? He would break my hand before it even got close enough.

"You need clothes. You can't run around dressed like that and I sure as hell ain't letting you wear _that_ every day. You'd stand out," I explained, placing my hands over my chest in an attempt to quell the fast beating of my heart. "I gotta go shopping for food too since I'll be serving two mouths instead of one. I sure hope you like American food. It's different from rice and sushi and all those Japanese dishes that you're used to."

He said nothing.

I then jolted. "Oh right! I gotta teach you about silverware!"

I squeezed out the small opening between him and the counter, rushing to one of my drawers. I found a knife, fork, and spoon and placed them on the counter. I took a deep breath before exhaling. He was watching me with a critical look, judging me again.

"We don't use chopsticks for our food," I explained. "Instead, we use silverware. It usually consists of a fork, a spoon, and a knife. A fork is your main utensil that you use to pick up your food. They're like chopsticks, only easier to handle. Ya just stab your food and then eat it."

I picked up the spoon. "You use the spoon to eat liquids or foods that are difficult to eat with a fork, like soup and curry."

I then picked up the knife. "This is the knife, which is used differently depending on what type it is. A serrated knife is for cutting meat apart while a butter knife, which you threatened to cut my throat with when we first met, is used to spread toppings like butter and mayonnaise. Relatively simple."

"Do you take me for an incompetent moron, servant girl?" Madara deadpanned. "I could determine that all just by looking at them."

I puffed my cheeks out in annoyance, doing everything in my power not to retort. I failed miserably. "If you're so smart, then you can figure our society out all by yourself, Einstein! Screw you!"

I took a quick glance at the clock. It was 2:00pm. I then stiffened in realization, dread coming upon me as I remembered something important. I blew a fuse when I realized what I was missing.

"CRAP! I FORGOT TO DO MY HOMEWORK! SHIT, SHIT, SHIT!" I shouted as I rushed to my room to get said homework. "Curse you Madara for making me forget!"

I grabbed my psychology book, my math book, and sheets of scrap paper before rushing back into the kitchen. I placed them down, ignoring Madara's presence while I went off to grab my laptop. Once I had that, I plopped down on a kitchen chair, booted up the computer, and opened my math book. I glared at the numbers on the pages. How I loathed math. If it wasn't required to function in today's society, I'd throw my math book in the fireplace, pour gasoline on it, and watch it explode in a massive eruption of fire and destruction. I redirected my glare to Madara, this one far more serious than before. I pointed my pen at him.

"Unless you can solve the Law of Cosines, get out of my kitchen," I said in my best if-you-bother-me-you-will-die voice. "I don't care if you are the Uchiha Clan Head; this is my house you're living in and I have rules you need to follow. If you kill me, you're on your own trying to find your way back to Konoha. I wish you luck finding allies if you do, sir."

"As if I would need allies," he scoffed arrogantly.

For once in his life, he actually decided to respect my need to be alone. He randomly took the World War II book that I left on the counter and exited the kitchen. I sighed in relief before returning my concentration to my homework. The hours ticked by as I made my slow progress with my homework. Another reason why I hated math so much was that I was horrendous at it. What usually takes an hour and a half for someone else takes twice as long for me. I never had a good grasp of math and I doubted that I ever would.

It was about 6:00 when I finished. I groaned in happiness when the torture was finally over. I slammed the math book shut, organized my scrap paper, and placed my pen behind my ear. I then picked up the objects before heading to my room. I paused in the entryway, observing Madara. He was engrossed in reading, the red eyes of his Sharingan glowing in the dimness of the room. Beth had told me he had a special eye technique called the Sharingan and it allowed him to memorize things far more easily than the normal person could. It was a handy technique to be sure. I felt rather jealous of it, to be honest. It sounded like a great tool for school and everyday life. I continued on my way to my room, trying to distract myself on what I was going to wear on my date with Nathan the next day. Madara really was gorgeous, but I didn't want him to know that I was ogling him on a daily basis. No need to stroke his ego any more than necessary. He probably got it enough in Konoha. What woman in her right mind _wouldn't_ want to marry a clan head, especially one as hot as Madara?

I dumped my stuff on my dresser before heading to my closet. I opened the door, scanning for any dresses that would be suitable to wear. I found a nice navy blue one, with no frills and no sparkly glitter of any sort on it. No sequins either. I nodded, hanging the thing on my closet door so it wouldn't get wrinkled. I leaned against my wall, twirling my hair and I thought about tomorrow. My dream come true; the chance to date Nathan and the possibility of becoming his girlfriend. I inwardly squealed in victory. If I played my cards right, he might ask me on another date. That meant that tomorrow had to go absolutely smoothly for there to be an even remote chance of that happening.

I walked out of my room, still twirling my hair as I made my way back to the living room. I slowly made my way to the couch where Madara was still reading. I took a quick peek at where he was in the book.

"Reading about the Nazi party already? You're a fast reader," I commented. "It took me a week to get that far."

"You greatly underestimate my intelligence, servant girl," he snapped at me. "I am not so inept that I need your hand to help me through everything. Do well to remember your place, you fool."

I sighed as I ignored the insult at my intellect, knowing what he said was true. Maybe I was being prejudiced in that aspect. It was a natural thing to be stereotypical, especially in America. Thinking he was a Japanese ninja from the feudal days, I thought he would have a less than adequate intelligence. He continued to prove me wrong the longer I knew him. I needed to get over that and accept him for who he was: a knowledgeable man who became the head leader of his clan. People don't name someone a clan head unless they are truly deserving of their station.

"Forgive me…" I said quietly. "It was wrong of me to judge prematurely like that and I'm sorry."

He remained quiet, still keeping his attention focused on the book. He was getting to the bad parts quickly. It wouldn't be long before he would see the true horrors of the Second World War. A grumble from my stomach brought me out of my musings, making me blush at how loud it sounded. I rushed out of the room to the kitchen, my heart beating in my throat again. I hated feeling like that; so nervous and embarrassed at the same time whenever I was around him. The only good thing about it was that those feelings weren't fear. That's some progress, right?

I opened the fridge, scanning my stocks as I attempted to think of what to make for dinner. There was no bread, thanks to a certain someone eating all of it. I didn't have much of anything because I hadn't gone shopping in a while. I had a packet of chicken, some vegetables, and eggs, which wasn't a whole lot to work with. I tapped my chin, thinking of what was in the pantry.

"I guess chicken noodle soup is the best I can do for now…" I said to myself.

As I went to get the ingredients to cook the soup, I suddenly had this feeling of guilt. I didn't entirely understand why. It was when I was passing by the entryway of the kitchen and saw Madara that I understood why I felt guilty. Eating dinner together was a supposed to be a happy time where you spend time with friends and family. He was probably used to luxurious food and people he could speak to that he knew and loved. Instead, he gets crappy food from a complete stranger in a rundown dump of a house in a rundown dump of a city. What a _joyous_ day for him it must be…

It was 7:30 when the soup was finally done. I sighed heavily, feeling rather nervous about whether if Madara would like the soup or not. I wasn't a master chef, but I wasn't a complete amateur when it came to cooking. I survived on it, but what if it tasted like crap to him? Why did I even bother caring about it in the first place!? If anything, he _deserved_ crappy food that matched his equally crappy personality!

"I need drugs…he's making me crazy even if he isn't a hallucination…" I moaned as I scooped some soup out and poured it into a bowl.

I placed the bowl on the table, set up a napkin and a spoon, and I placed a glass down as well. I merely filled the glass with water, not knowing if Madara would like carbonated beverages very much. It was an acquired taste, after all. I took a series of steady breaths before exiting the kitchen. I saw that Madara was still reading. Interesting. He must've really enjoyed reading or thought that the content was interesting enough to warrant his attention.

"Madara-sama? If you want to eat now, you can," I told him.

His visible eye looked up from the book, looking at me blankly. He dog-eared the page before closing the book. I didn't mind that he did that. I often dog-eared the pages in my books when I didn't have a bookmark with me. He strolled right past me, eyeing the bowl of soup curiously.

"This is it?" he asked.

I bowed down, traditional of Japanese culture from what Beth told me. "I'm sorry…but I worked with what I had. I can't make extravagant meals every day. I can only do so much…"

"Understandable, considering you're a lowly peasant."

I flinched at the words. Lowly peasant? Yeah, it was true. I _was_ a lowly peasant, but it didn't mean that I liked to hear it out loud. If there was one thing I hated even more than math, it was hearing someone gloat about their social station over others. Narcissistic arrogant bastards, thinking that they own the world just because they have more money than other people; the very thought pissed me off. In the end, poorer people get screwed over while the rich reap the benefits. I hated living in a world like that, but I dealt with it. It was simply our way of life and there was nothing we could do to change it.

"It's different."

I perked my head up at Madara's voice. It looked like he had already begun digging into his food. He used the spoon with practiced precision, as if he had known how to use one all along. You wouldn't have guessed he was a foreign ninja guy from a different universe.

"Is that a good different or a bad different?" I meekly asked.

"Hn."

I took the grunt as a "yes, it is a good different". As long as he wasn't gagging or puking it all up due to how disgusting it was, that was a success for me. I smiled to myself as I went to get myself a bowl so I could eat some soup. It was my mother's homemade recipe. She would always make it on a cold winter day or whenever I was sick. It brought back pleasant memories whenever I made it, but dark memories came back as well. A sharp pain brought me out of my thoughts. I wasn't aware I had spilled a bit of the burning broth onto my skin when I was thinking about my past. I hissed, turning the cold water on the nearby sink and putting my hand under it. I bit my lip in order to not make any more noise.

"You're an idiot, servant girl," Madara stated, not even bothering to turn and face me.

"Just eat your soup before I decide to dump my bowl on your head," I snapped back. "Let's see how hot you are then, Mr. Ninja."

He ignored me. I _really_ wanted to slam the World War II book he was reading over his head, but I pushed the desire down. Instead, I resorted to glaring at him from across the table as I ate my soup. He finished before I did and went back to the living room to continue reading. I silently thanked the gods that he preferred reading over insulting me and my intelligence. I guess I deserved it for treating him in the same way when I had no right to. Drumming my fingers on my table, I briefly wondered how I was gonna sneak Madara out to go shopping. He needed clothes and not whatever he was wearing. I had no idea what size he was or what style clothing he would like, so I needed him there with me. On the bright side, I could make him suffer the horrors of a woman's shopping spree. On the downside, I ran the risk of my college classmates seeing me with him; especially a certain bitch I knew that wasn't Beth.

Deciding to worry about it when the day came, I got up to place my dishes in my sink and started washing them. I also washed Madara's since I knew he would rather commit _seppuku_ than lower himself to do a woman's job. Gender roles. I hated that about our society too. Even with all the laws we had, there were still sexist idiots that lived in the world. Equality, my ass. I took my frustration out on the dishes in the sink, scrubbing them fiercely as if they were the source of all my problems. It didn't help me feel better, but the dishes were clean as fuck when I was done with them.

Once I put the dishes in my dish drainer, I went off to my batcave to find some extra blankets. There was only one bed in the house and I knew I would be losing it for however long Madara was staying until he returned to Konoha. It was the polite thing to do. He was stripped away from everything he knew, so I was supposed to make him as comfortable as possible. The blankets were for me for when I slept on the couch. I also took out another one for Madara. I didn't know how warm and cold it got in Japan, so I had no idea how he well he would react to Michigan's bipolar weather. At the very least, he has it if he needs it.

I wandered back into the living room, still finding Madara reading that book. He must've been a bookworm underneath that cold exterior. I couldn't sit still reading a book for hours on end; I get fidgety after a while.

"Servant girl."

I perked up at my name being called. Madara was looking at the book still, but a look of discontent was shining in his visible eye. I blinked at the emotion I could see. I looked at where he was in the World War II book and I instantly frowned. He was already reading about the Nazi's "great purge" and seeing the pictures of that horrid time. I already had a feeling of what he was going to say.

"The sheer idea of a superior race is ludicrous. It's one thing for when you're trying to prove your clan's superiority to the rest of the world. Outright slaughtering and torturing innocents—even children—just based on physical appearances is despicable. Why would—"

"I know it's stupid, but that's what the guy believed. It was a mindset," I explained. "Yes he was crazy, but the books always paint him in a biased way in my opinion. They paint him out as the supreme villain, but he did do _some_ good things. He helped bring his country out of the economic rut it was left in after World War I and brought up the morale of his people. Don't get me wrong; I'm not supporting his decisions to commit mass genocide at all! It was morally wrong on so many levels! I'm just saying that no matter how evil a person may be viewed as, that person may think he's doing the best thing for other people and himself. There's nothing wrong with that."

He looked at me for a good few seconds before he spoke again. What he said made something snap inside me.

"You really are an idiot."

I grabbed his face faster than I thought I was capable of, glaring at his visible eye. A rage burned inside my gut at the treatment he always gave me. I was so sick of it. I may have been a pansy when he first showed up, but I wasn't going to let him constantly run me over like this. I was putting my foot down.

"I have been more than fair with you, Madara Uchiha," I said in a deathly calm voice, though the blazing fire in my eyes betrayed this calm. "I know you are a long ways from home and I sympathize with you in that respect. But if you think that I'm going to let you continue to treat me like the dirt below your shoes, you're sorely mistaken. I will not hesitate to kick your ass out on the street and let you fend for yourself. I'm completely serious about that."

He removed my hand, gripping it firmly. I stared into his lone mesmerizing ruby eye, keeping my gaze fixed on it. The corners of his mouth drifted upwards, causing me to blink in shock. Was he smirking at me!?

"Such nerve," he said, sounding clearly pleased. "You know very well I could kill you in an instant, yet you continue to put up such a bold front whenever your anger controls you. Not one woman has ever had the audacity to speak to me in such a way. You amuse me despite your stupid actions, servant girl."

My mind completely shut down for a few seconds. I wasn't thinking when I did it. If I was, I would've shot myself in the head because of how unbelievably stupid it was to say the things I did. Curse my American feminist pride for getting me into trouble again!

I then started sputtering out incoherent sentences, a mad blush making its way onto my face as I finally comprehended the meaning of Madara's words. Did he compliment me? Did Madara Uchiha actually just fucking _compliment_ me!? HOLY SHITBALLS!

"Can I die now…?" I moaned under my breath, feeling mortified that I had said such things to Madara and yet I was still living. I wasn't aware of when he let go of my hand and returned his attention back to his book.

"Oh, please. Don't you start having spontaneous mood swings too," he ordered. "I deal with one massive idiot already, servant girl. One is my limit and I plan keep it that way."

"Duly noted," I said after my mind decided to switch back on to its logical function. I rushed out of the living room to the safety of my room, my heart beating in my throat again. I took a few minutes to calm myself down. What the hell was wrong with me? I gotta watch what I say around Madara, lest I end up dead before my prime.

I left the extra blanket on my bed, hoping to take my mind off of the ninja reading in my living room. I couldn't do anything about setting up my bed until he got up from the couch. That meant I had to keep myself entertained until then. I twirled my hair, suddenly taking the time to comprehend another fact I failed to notice: Madara was Japanese. Therefore, he read, wrote, and spoke Japanese. He's never been introduced to the English language before, yet he was speaking it perfectly without the slightest bit of an accent. He was also reading a book written in English. I stopped twirling my hair, trying to figure out the logic of those facts.

"Huh…?" I said aloud, having no answer as to how that was possible. My mind was fucked. It had been fucked thoroughly simply by Madara showing up in my house. The laws of physics were crumbling before my eyes the longer I knew him.

I quickly shook my head, deciding to not worry about it. If I tried to figure out the logic behind it all, I was afraid my brain would turn to goo. It had been through enough already and I rather liked having a mind I could use. I resumed twirling my hair as I made my way back to the living room. And surprise, surprise! He was _still_ reading! I nearly wanted to snatch the book out of his hands just to irritate him. I decided against it, instead getting a better idea.

"Say, Madara-sama?" I began. He raised his eye, looking at me over the pages of the book. "Do you like music?"

He raised an eyebrow at me. "And why do you want to know?"

"Well…" I paused, taking a deep breath through my nose. Why was it always so hard to start a conversation with this guy? "I like to listen to music while I read. It helps block out noises and it makes the reading a bit more enjoyable, especially if the reading is boring. I was only curious if you would like the option of that."

"What you deem music is probably as unsuitable as your sense of humor," he stated bluntly, returning his gaze to the pages.

"Give me a chance, Madara-sama. You don't know until you listen for yourself."

He raised his eyebrow at me again.

I groaned. "It's not like I'm going to mind control you! For fuck's sake, I wouldn't even know how!"

There was a brief pause before he closed the book. "…Very well. If it'll get you to be quiet, I'll listen."

Score, bitches! I was getting somewhere with this guy!

I rushed to my room, quickly grabbing my large headphones and my iPod. I had a wide variety of music, so there had to be something he would like on there. I would have to ask what his preferences were before I chose anything. Bringing the two objects to the ninja was interesting. He had an indescribable expression on his face when he saw the odd contraption.

"What is that?"

"Well, these are the headphones. The sound travels through the cord and it gets emitted through the loudspeakers," I explained, pointing to each part of the object. I then pointed to the iPod. "This is a portable media player. It can save audio files onto it and it allows you to play those files wherever you are, so you can listen to music anywhere as long as it has battery power."

He had a blank look on his face, but it was a different kind of blank look. It was the I-have-no-fuckin'-idea-what-you-just-said blank instead of the I-don't-give-a-damn blank. I smirked at the look, getting a bit closer to him. I sat down next to him.

"How about I just show you?"

He narrowed his eyes at me.

"Trust me."

I scooted a bit closer to him, half-expecting him to shove me off the couch. When he made no move, I decided to move a bit closer. Once I was close enough, I spread apart the headphones so I could fit them on his head. He was tensed up, as if expecting me to secretly pull something horrible from out of leftfield. I gently placed the loudspeakers over his ears, making every move to show that I was honest with my actions.

"There. Now was that so bad?" I said.

He said nothing, still eyeing me with apprehension. He curiously poked the loudspeakers, as if expecting them to retaliate against him in some shape or form.

"Now, what would you like to listen to?" I asked.

"Humor me," he said. "I don't know what you would even consider music in this Detroit. When we listen to music, there are instruments involved. Not these 'media players'."

"There are instruments. Different kinds for different genres. It's just recorded instead of performed live," I explained, scrolling through my music library. "Let's see here…something not overly screeching loud, so no heavy metal. Not something with lots of cursing, and preferably male. Hmm…"

I scrolled through my library two times, still unsure of what he would like. I then stopped around the "B's". One band stuck out to me. _Breaking Benjamin_. It was rock and it did have some swearing and harsh music in some of their songs. Deciding to pick my poison, I skimmed through the fifty-ish songs of theirs. I stopped at one in particular. "Dance with the Devil" was the name. I smirked, liking that particular song the most out of the album it came from. I quickly checked the volume to make sure I hadn't left it on "eardrum-blasting" loud. No need to deafen the poor ninja without meaning to. I took a few breaths before clicking the play button.

Those were the longest four minutes of my life. I twiddled my thumbs as I waited for some type of reaction from Madara. He had one hand on each of the loudspeakers, holding them in a way reminiscent of a DJ. I internally giggled at the thought. DJ Madara. There was so much wrongness with that image. I blinked when I saw him narrow his eyes, making me feel nervous that the choice was a bad one. He took off the headphones.

"That was…different."

"Again, good or bad different?" I asked.

"I suppose it warrants some recognition."

"So, in other words, you like it!" I shouted in victory.

"I never said that," he snapped.

"Well you would never give me a clear-cut answer on anything, so I am forced to draw my own conclusions based on your reactions. Since I did not hear any distinct insults or complaints, I believe that you enjoyed it to some extent. Otherwise you wouldn't have listened to the whole song now, would you?"

Madara opened his mouth to retort, but nothing came out. He opened it again, but still no words left his mouth. I had a feeling he was trying to deny what I had said, but was unable to find a distinct way around the argument.

"Well, you're more than free to go looking for something you do like if that song didn't pique your interest," I said, not willing to rub my internal victory in his face. "The media player is interactive, so just touch 'Music' and go scrolling to your heart's content. I suggest _Metallica_, _Linkin Park_, and _Evanescence_ as some of my personal favorites. Now, if you please, get off my couch."

He glared at me. I blinked innocently at him.

"There's only one bed in this house, so I'm letting you use it while you're here. I'll be sleeping on the couch until Beth and I find a way to get you home."

He gazed at me for a few minutes, making me fidget under his watchful eyes. I breathed in deeply, but then nearly gagged. It was only then I noticed a horribly nasty smell nearby and I was able to conclude where it was coming from.

"Good god! Madara, when was the last time you took a bath!?" I snapped, waving my hand in front of my face in an effort to blow away the fumes.

"…A few days ago, before I ended up in your home," he answered.

"Please, by all means, go and shower!" I said, pointing towards the bathroom. "Wash that mane of yours thoroughly! It may smell like sun-ripened strawberries when you're done, but it's better than what it smells like now!"

"Sun-ripened strawberries?" he repeated in confusion.

"Welcome to America. We have shampoo and conditioner, Madara-sama," I said. "It keeps your hair nice and healthy."

Madara said nothing, deciding to not question what the hell I was talking about. He got up from the couch, walking towards the bathroom. He paused in the hallway and looked back at me. I was confused as to why he did.

"…You are by far the strangest woman I have ever met," he said before leaving my line of sight.

"…Thank you?" I said awkwardly, not knowing if that was a good or bad thing.

I then jolted, realizing that he might not know how to work the bathtub/shower! I immediately jumped from the couch and zoomed to the bathroom. I didn't knock on the door, but I sincerely wished that I did. I felt heat blazing from my face when I saw him. He wasn't nude, thank god, but I did end up seeing more than I intended. I squeaked, covering my eyes.

"Oh, lord almighty, I'm _sorry_!" I shouted, blushing madly. "I didn't know you were changing already!"

"What are you getting so flustered for?" he said nonchalantly, as if being naked from the torso up was an everyday thing.

"…I've never seen a guy…shirtless before…" I peeped out.

"Again, you are the oddest woman I have ever met."

I strolled past him and began explaining the bathtub/shower area. I did everything I could to not look at the well-developed six-pack that was staring me right in the face. If I stayed around Madara any longer, I feared my head would explode from the amount of blood rushing to my cheeks due to the huge blush that was still there.

"And…leave your clothes out in the hallway when you're done…changing," I stammered nervously. "I'll wash them and give you some proper night clothes for tonight."

I zoomed out of the bathroom faster than, as BaD would say, "a fangirl in a yaoi convention". I then zipped right to my room to find some of old clothes for Madara to wear. I had some difficulty since more than half the stuff I went through was either too small for his form or it was distinctly _un_manly. I don't care if _My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic_ has a surprisingly large amount of male fans; I was _not_ putting a Rainbow Dash/Pinkie Pie shirt on Madara, no matter how hilarious it might've been. I managed to dig out an old oversized _ACDC_ shirt that my dad handed down to me and some forgotten black boxers he had left behind when we were unpacking stuff. Don't ask me HOW Dad got a pair of his boxers in a box filled with women's clothing; he manages to make the improbable possible.

I placed the clothing outside the bathroom door, swapping them for Madara's smelly garments. They reeked of sweat, dirt, and another smell I couldn't quite place. It reminded me of the smell of iron to an extent. I bundled them up and took them to the washing machine, immediately throwing them in. Deciding to not take any chances that they might be made of cotton, I put it on a cold cycle and poured two cups worth of detergent into the machine. If that didn't get rid of the smell, nothing would.

I sighed heavily, wondering if there was some horrible god out there that just enjoyed making me suffer. What had I done in life to deserve having to watch over a deadly ninja from another dimension? I wasn't sure. I had more than enough traumatic experiences in one lifetime. The last thing I needed was another potential murderer to appear in my life in some shape or form.

I stopped in the hallway, spotting Madara just coming out of the bathroom. It felt as if the light coming from the lamps in the living room were shining on him at just the right angle to accent his already striking features. The boxers were a miraculously perfect fit. The shirt was hanging off of him a little, but fit his form nicely. Droplets of water were glistening in his wet hair, giving an almost ethereal glow to his figure. A towel was draped around his shoulders. His bangs were brushed to the side, revealing the left side of his handsome face to the rest of the world. Madara noticed me ogling him since he turned to face me.

"Beautiful…"

He raised an eyebrow, a distinct frown forming on his face. "Excuse me?"

I then squeaked, realizing that I had said my opinion aloud. I slammed my hands over my mouth, my blush spreading across my face rapidly. I rushed past him and dove into my couch, landing on it roughly. I screamed into the cushions, pounding the armrest in aggravation. I then picked my head up, exhaling irritably. I stood up from the couch, doing what I could to regain what little composure I had left. I walked back to Madara, who was eyeing me oddly.

"I needed to vent," I explained brashly. "I assume the bath was to your liking?"

He didn't answer. I did another stupid move, getting closer to sniff him. The smell of strawberries and citrus invaded my nostrils along with another scent; the smell of forest trees and ginger. Where did that scent come from? I didn't have any bath products that smelled of forest trees and ginger.

"That's much better. You smell nice."

"I smell like mixed fruits…" he deadpanned, a hint of annoyance breaking through his voice.

"Well, I guess that makes you a fruit salad," I joked. "Despite your fruitiness, do you feel much better now?"

"Yes."

Wow. He gave me a direct answer. The world shall end within the next week.

"That's good. I guess I'll bid you a good night, Madara-sama. I hope my bed won't give you any problems. It does squeak a bit…"

"I'll be fine," he said coldly.

I continued staring at him and I think I might've pissed him off by doing it. He walked up to me, the difference in height blatantly showing itself. He reached out and placed his hand near my face. My blush intensified tenfold. I shut my eyes tightly, feeling those calloused hands brushing ever so slightly against my cheek. It soon disappeared, causing me to open my eyes. He was twirling a pen in his fingers; the same pen I had left behind my ear. He was smirking, looking quite entertained with my reaction.

"Stupid girl. Did you actually think I was going to caress your cheek?" he bluntly said.

"You…you…YOU TEASE!" I yelled angrily. "Don't do shit like that, you bastard!"

GAH! How could I be so stupid!? Stop gawking at him like a love-struck fangirl, damn it! You're supposed to hate him! Stop changing your mind about him all the time!

"What did you say your name was, servant girl?"

"Eh?" I blurted out.

"Your name, you idiot," he repeated sharply.

"Oh. It's Lilith. Lilith Price."

"…Odd name," he stated. Yeah. It's odd compared to what you're used to. "What does it mean?"

"What it means…?" I lowered my head, glaring at the floor. My bangs fell into my face, obscuring the emotion that burned in my eyes.

"All names have a meaning. I am asking what yours is."

"My name means…demon."

He frowned, as if confused by the sudden revulsion in my voice. I didn't meet his gaze, turning away and heading towards my couch. I always hated my name. It had a biblical meaning to it. Lilith was supposedly the first woman created by God, but she was cast out of the Garden of Eden for not submitting to Adam. As punishment, she became a demon of the night. I really didn't want to talk about the story behind the name with Madara.

I laid down on my couch, spreading the blankets over myself before laying my head on one of the cushions. I was able to fall asleep quickly enough, but I continued to feel Madara's presence in the room and in my mind. I dreamed of a smiling Madara skipping through a happy land laced with fruit and rainbows alongside Pinkie Pie.

Hallucination or not, I was definitely going insane.


	6. Breakdown

"Lay down now. Just relax."

I blinked at what I was seeing. "M-M-M-Madara-sama?"

He had this triumphant grin on his face, looking down from his position over me. When had we ever got into such a position!? We were on my bed and he was frickin' shirtless again, showing off that well built six-pack of his. He placed his hand on my cheek, leaning in closer to me. I felt the blush on my face spread, an oddly comfortable heat spreading throughout my body. My hands moved on their own, entangling themselves into his long midnight locks. His hair felt softer than I had imagined. I suddenly had the urge to pull him closer to me.

Ever closer he came, until his face was hovering over mine. I could see the almost invisible pupil in his coal-grey eyes, which were shining with a desire; a certain desire I could easily pinpoint. My mind clearly knew what was happening at this point, but my body refused to listen to reason. I wanted it. Badly.

"Servant girl…" he said, his lips bare centimeters from my own.

"Madara…" I said, wondering why he had suddenly stopped.

"Wake up."

"Eh?"

I closed my eyes, and then reopened them. Madara was hovering over my face, but he was upside-down this time. He looked aggravated, which sharply contrasted to the almost loving look I had seen earlier. I blinked rapidly, feeling rather foolish. I couldn't understand why he suddenly had an attitude change. I then put two and two together.

"Oh, _no_!" I cursed loudly. "I did _**NOT**_! Evil subconscious mind!"

"What are you blathering about?" Madara questioned.

"Nothing important!" I quickly answered. There was no way in _hell_ I was telling Madara I had a wet dream about him. "What'd you wake me up for?"

"That odd device on your dresser won't stop making that annoying blaring and I can't figure out how to turn it off!"

"Oh. You mean my alarm clock," I said in realization.

"Yes. Whatever you call that thing."

I sat up on the couch, stretching out my limbs as I took a quick peek at the clock on my wall. It was quarter to eight. My alarm was set to go off at seven, so poor Madara was attempting to turn it off for forty-five minutes. Guess he had to admit defeat and get my help.

"Did you spill something on yourself last night?"

"Huh?" I blurted out.

He innocently pointed at a distinct wet spot on the blanket, which was stuffed between my legs. "It's a bit wet there…and it smells a bit."

I screamed loudly, quickly kicking the blanket off the couch and covering up the wet spot on my pants with my shirt as much as possible. A fierce blush made its way onto my face. Of all the times to be observant, he had to spot _that_!? Curse my evil mind and its delusional fantasies! Curse Madara for invading my dreams! Curse everything that worked against me in the universe!

"There you go, getting all flustered again," he said, that teasing smirk forming on his face again. "Does my presence rattle you that much, Lilith?"

"Of course you do, you—" I paused for a moment, rewinding the sentence in my mind. "What did you just say?"

"Hn. I thought so."

"That is NOT what you just said!" I snapped. "Did you just call me by my name?"

"Your ears seem to be functioning well enough. Use them, servant girl."

I groaned, palming my face. "I _hate_ you. I really hate you, you know that?"

"I assure you that the feeling is mutual, servant girl. If I didn't need you, your head would be my trophy right now."

"Don't remind me," I grumped.

I quickly rushed out of the room and headed to my room. I slammed my door closed and flopped onto my bed. I screamed into my Jiggypuff pillow to vent all my rage. How I _loathed_ that ninja creep. I then blinked when I smelled forest trees and ginger on my precious Jiggs. I felt the heat rush back to my face before it made its tingling way down my spine. That meant he had used it as a pillow or his scent in general permeated everything. Part of me wanted to laugh at the idea that he possibly used Jiggs as a pillow while the other part was enjoying the scent he left behind. It was a rather pleasing scent.

I mentally slapped myself. Stop wallowing in his musk, damn it! You had a doctor's appointment to get to and had a date right after that! Get your priorities straight!

After I turned off my alarm clock, I rummaged through my drawers to get appropriate lingerie for my dress. I could only hope I would have enough time to put makeup on after the appointment. With all my clothes set out, I went to the bathroom to shower. I didn't need anyone to know I had been turned on by that wet dream, least of all Madara.

I took my shower, letting the warm water soothe my aching joints and washing away the remaining traces of...that stuff. Good lord, I hated it all so much. I was a guarded person and I had never been interested in a guy other than Nathan. To suddenly have Madara invading my thoughts to _that_ extent bothered me greatly. I didn't even like the guy…did I? No! He was a teasing, ungrateful bastard! He deserved all the bad things in the universe for acting like such an ass!

I wrapped my bathrobe around my form and rolled my hair up in a towel. Walking out of the bathroom, I then headed to the laundry room. I had fallen asleep before I was done washing Madara's clothes. There were probably still soggy and all wrinkled by now, not that I cared too much. I threw the clothes in the dryer before I went to the kitchen to fix myself some breakfast. I was in the right mood for some pancakes and eggs, so I was gonna go for it.

I went to work after finding the pancake mix, milk, eggs, and other such ingredients. Pancakes were relatively easy to make, but I rarely had them. It was more of a family dish, better served when more people were there to eat it. As the pancakes cooked, I went to crack the eggs into a bowl. I then used a fork to whisk the yolks into a gooey yellow soup. I added a little milk to that soup before whisking it again. Milk makes scrambled eggs fluffier when you cook them, just how I liked them. Once it was all mixed, I poured the eggs into a separate pan. I preferred my eggs scrambled, so that's what Madara was getting if he decided to have some.

"What is that?"

I screeched, nearly slamming the spatula I had in my hand into Madara's face.

"Madara-sama! Don't sneak up on me, especially when I'm cooking!" I snapped angrily at him.

He smirked at me, causing me to frown. I turned my back to him, focusing my attention back on the food cooking. I didn't want to burn my breakfast, after all. It took about ten minutes for the eggs to be done and about an extra thirty before I cooked up all the pancakes. Once they were all on a plate, I went to my fridge and took out some margarine. I placed the margarine on the table before leaving to the pantry to get the syrup.

"So, Madara," I said, taking a plate and began serving myself some food. "Have you ever had pancakes and scrambled eggs before?"

"Pan-cakes? 'Scrambled' eggs?" he repeated curiously.

"Pancakes are…well, they're cooked in a pan and they fluff out like cakes do. And scrambled eggs are just eggs that are cooked up. Instead of directly pouring the yolk onto food, you 'scramble' it up into a liquid-ish form before cooking it in a pan."

"…No, I haven't."

"Well, now's your chance to try it," I said before stabbing a piece of my pancake. I posed the piece in front of Madara's face. "Here. Just try it."

He snatched the fork out of my hand and quickly shoved the piece into his mouth. I couldn't tell if he did that because he was famished or because he didn't want to be fed like a two-year-old. I watched him chew it slowly, closing his eyes and averting my gaze.

"It's very sweet," he stated.

"That's the maple syrup. The pancakes aren't too tasty by themselves, so we use syrup to give it some flavor. If you don't have a big sweet tooth, don't pour too much on them. I, on the other hand, am victim to being a chocoholic, so I have a huge sweet tooth."

"A chocoholic?" he questioned, going to grab some pancakes and eggs onto his own plate.

"You know…a chocolate lover?"

"What's chocolate?"

My jaw dropped. "Are you serious!? You've never had chocolate?"

"Again, what is it?"

"Chocolate is only one of the best inventions man has ever come up with!" I shouted, jumping out of my chair and slamming both my palms onto the table. "It's a brown-colored candy that tastes very sweet. You'll have to taste it for yourself to know its ungodly yummy taste."

"Is it anything like dango?"

"Um…I don't know? I don't know what dango is, so I can't give you a clear answer on that."

"Hn."

It was a quiet breakfast after the chocolate topic. I unintentionally kept taking quick peeks at Madara from across the table and I was positive he knew I was doing it, but he remained quiet about it. I couldn't help myself. There he was in an _ACDC_ shirt, boxers, and eating pancakes and scrambled eggs like an American. He looked so normal that it was hard for me to believe he was from a different world altogether.

I placed my dishes in the sink for washing later that day. I then made my way back to my bedroom to get dressed. I started aimlessly humming to myself as I grabbed the dress hanging off my closet door. I put the dress on, twirling around in it a few times to make sure nothing was hanging out of place. I didn't see anything, so I nodded to my reflection in my mirror. The next step was to brush my hair so it wouldn't get all tangled while it dried. Butterflies were fluttering around my stomach as I thought about my date with Nathan. Nothing could go wrong after I had a crappy start to my morning, right? I just hoped I didn't jinx myself by thinking that.

I was ready to leave by nine, looking pretty damn good for once in my lifetime. I wasn't one for dresses, but I cleaned up pretty good when I needed to. I strolled back to the living room, my high heels clicking against the floor. I unintentionally drew Madara's attention because of the noise my heels were making. He entered the living room from the kitchen, looking at me with a surprised look.

"What?" I blurted out. "What's with the face?"

"Is that supposed to be a kimono?" he asked.

"No. It's a dress. It's like a kimono, but it isn't. For Americans, this is the standard female formal wear for a special event of some kind."

"I see."

"If you want to know, I'm off for an appointment and then I got a date to go to."

"A date?" he said in confusion.

"Hmm…how to explain that…" I scratched the back of my head. "A date is when a guy and a girl get together and do something. Going out to a dinner or watch a movie; and then we just talk to get to know each other. If we decided we like each other, we could become boyfriend and girlfriend; a couple that's on the road to marriage if everything goes well from there."

Madara frowned, looking a bit livid. I blinked at the emotion I saw.

"What?" I asked.

"Is it some sort of omiai?"

"A what?"

"An arranged marriage meeting, where potential spouses meet and discuss about their personal talents and characteristics."

"Oh, god no!" I said. "It's more of a 'let's have fun while getting to know you' thing. I'm not getting married anytime soon."

Madara looked unconvinced.

I sighed in aggravation. "Oh, stop acting like my mother! I'm not a child. I can do what I want and meet with whoever I want. Deal with it."

"You're an idiot, servant girl," he scoffed at me, which pissed me off even more.

"What are you; five?" I asked, wondering why my personal relationships were such a big deal to him.

"For your information, I'm twenty-six," he snapped angrily. My jaw dropped.

"NO WAY! Are you serious!? You're only five years older than me!?" I yelled in disbelief. "Holy crap on a stick! Man, was I way off!"

"What? Did you think I was older than that?"

"Well…yeah! You're always so uptight and serious; I thought you'd be at least in your mid-thirties because of your maturity. Plus," I pointed to my eyelids. "You look much older with those saggy eyelids of yours."

He stiffened, his mouth falling open a little. "They're not saggy!"

"That's what she said," I smirked knowingly. "Deny it all you want; it won't change the fact that your lower eyelids are pronounced on your face. It makes you look old. Try smiling once in a while. That might fix it."

I went towards the door, turning the knob and opening it. I stood in the doorway looking back at Madara, who was glaring at me.

"I'll see you later today, Dynamite," I said, eyeing the _ACDC_ shirt on him. "Try not to blow the house up or kill anyone while I'm gone. Your clothes should be dry within the next hour and there's nonperishable food in the cupboards. If you somehow manage to figure out how the microwave works, there's leftover soup you can heat up. Good day to you, Madara-sama."

With that said, I exited the house and locked the front door. It was out of habit more so than trying to lock Madara in the house. I don't think that was a situation that was even remotely possible. I stepped down my front porch and walked to my car. It was an old Toyota Prius, but it got me where I needed to be. I opened the car door before climbing inside.

It took me a half hour to get to the doctor's office, but I preferred to be early than late. I had no idea how long the appointment was going to last, but I hoped it would be relatively quick. I had made the call back when I truly believed Madara was a figment of my imagination. Now I knew that he was real, but I highly doubt anyone in their right mind would believe that a man that had popped out of a computer screen was real and that it was just me going crazy. I technically _was_ going crazy, dealing with Madara's presence in my life. I shuddered when the thought of that wet dream came back to me. I ignored the warm feeling that traveled down my spine, suppressing my desire to do naughty things to the ninja in my mind.

"Miss Price?"

I jerked my head up, spotting the lovely greeter person. She told me to get up and that the doctor was ready to see me. I walked through the door and down the hallway, being led to a smallish room with one of those check-up table/beds. I spotted my psychiatrist, Dr. Allen. He had been a good friend of my father's back in the day and he has helped me through a number of tough situations in my life, especially that _incident_ from eleven years ago.

"Ah, Lilith! Good to see you!" he greeted me with a smile. "Come and sit down."

I did as he asked, sitting down on the check-up/table thingy. I placed my hands on my knees, swinging my legs back and forth a little.

"Now then, what seems to be the problem this time?"

"Well…I thought I might be suffering from schizophrenia," I answered honestly. Dr. Allen just gave me a blank look, probably trying his best not to laugh.

"And…what made you think this?" he asked.

"A ruby-eyed Japanese ninja wielding an Ass Fan popped out of my computer screen. He's been haunting me for the past couple days."

"A Japanese ninja…popped out of your computer screen?" he repeated. "Can you describe what this ninja looks like and how he acts?"

"He's about a head or two taller than me. He wears black clothing similar to a sweatshirt and sweatpants, but they're not. He has long black hair and color changing eyes. He's got this…war fan that looks like a person's butt in my opinion. He said it was called a gunbai. He's rather ruthless and cold-hearted, but very curious about the stuff around my house. He can be violent though."

"I see…this is serious," Dr. Allen said, a frown forming on his normally jovial features. "Have you experienced anything like this before?"

"Hell no. I would've been here a long time ago if that was so."

"And this man is very real to you?"

I groaned. "Very much so. But I think I've come to terms with him."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. He's starting to respect me a bit…I think. He hasn't done anything bad. He actually said I amused him. Whether that's a good thing or not, I don't know."

"Interesting…" he muttered. "Well, it does sound like schizophrenia, but hallucinations are not the only symptom."

"Oh?"

"Some other symptoms include incoherent speech, cognitive impairments, and inappropriate behavior. I see none of the following shown in your behavior thus far. I am, however, more worried that interaction with this hallucination might bring back your…condition."

"Don't say it…" I moaned.

"Lilith," Dr. Allen said seriously. "It's been over a decade since that accident. Even though you are coping very well in your life, you haven't recovered from your PTSD. You may never fully recover, but one of the best things to do is to stay away from triggers that bring back the images of the event. No ten-year-old girl should have had to deal with a situation like that. I don't want to see you suffer like that again, Lilith."

"I understand…"

"Now, I can prescribe some medicine that will help with the hallucinations you're dealing with—"

"That won't be necessary, Dr. Allen," I interrupted. "I don't think Mr. Ninja is going to be a problem anymore."

The psychiatrist just gaped at me.

"He likes to read and learn new things. All I have to do is keep him occupied with that and he'll be happy. And he said I amused him when I do stupid things, so that works towards my favor too."

"Are you sure about this?"

"Completely," I said with a confident smile. "Sure, he's the biggest douchebag I have ever had the misfortune to know, but he's not that bad compared to some people."

"Well…alright. If you're sure. I know once you have your mind set on something, there's no changing it."

"I am. Thank you for your time, Dr. Allen," I said, hoping off the bed. "I need to get home by noon so I have time to style my hair and put on makeup."

"What for?"

"I'm going on a date at two. It's my first one ever."

"Ah! Seems like the flower has finally decided to bloom!" Dr. Allen said cheerily. "I hope you have fun. But do remember to take it easy and remember to stay away from triggers, alright?"

"I know. I will!" I grinned at him before exiting the room.

I drove back home, rushing a bit by weaving through traffic so I could get home faster. No matter how early a woman can get up, it's never enough time for her to get ready and look her best. I pulled into my driveway, silently hoping Madara hadn't trashed my house in the hour and a half that I was gone. I quickly unlocked the door, expecting the worst.

I blinked in surprise, finding my house in the exact same state I had left it in. Madara was experimenting with the remote control for the TV, discovering the different channels and which buttons altered the volume. He had changed back into his original clothes, which thankfully hadn't shrunk in the wash. The outfit looked different when all the armor was off. I hid the smile that wanted to break onto my face as I entered the room. Madara cast a quick glance at me.

"Done already?"

"Nope!" I answered, walking past him and heading for the bathroom. "I'm only back so I can apply my makeup."

Heading into the bathroom, I found all my womanly supplies: lipstick, blush, perfume, eyeliner, etc. I was going to need as much time as possible so I looked absolutely perfect. Being beautiful was such a pain in the ass, but it was worth it in the end; especially if Nathan decided he wanted to keep going on dates with me. I barely contained the squeal that wanted to burst forth. I then froze, feeling eyes piercing into the side of my head. I was in the middle of putting on my blush when I spotted Madara outside the bathroom entryway.

"Shoo!" I snapped, pointing my blush brush at him. "Don't distract me! Applying makeup is harder than painting an art piece! It requires deep concentration and very precise movements!"

"I highly doubt that," he stated, closing his eyes.

I strolled right up to him and pointed at his nose with my blush brush. He eyed me strangely, waiting to see what I was going to say.

"Here's a challenge for you, oh great Uchiha Clan Head: try being a girl. You men don't realize how lucky you are!" I shouted. "Sure, you get your horniness and your masturbation and your eroticism and erections, but we women have far worse problems than that! Try dealing with cramps, feelings of self-consciousness, bloating, and excessive bleeding for one week on a monthly basis for the next thirty to forty years! And then it doesn't stop there! So don't give me a hard time, you bastard!"

Oh dear. Judging from what I had just said and my spiking feelings of hatred toward Madara, it could only mean one thing. I had to be PMSing. It was getting close to that time again. I tended to get _really_ bitchy when I was PMSing. I silently hoped I wouldn't explode at Nathan while on our date. I returned to applying my makeup, despite Madara having his watchful eye on me. Once fifteen minutes had passed, Madara stopped staring at me like a creeper and left to go do something else. Putting on makeup was like watching plants grow; it wasn't an entertaining thing to watch.

It took me another half hour before I was finally done. I blinked my eyelids a few times, looking at the mascara and hoping it hadn't clumped together like it sometimes did. It didn't, thank heavens. I had gone the whole nine yards while not going overboard at the same time. I put on eye shadow to highlight my storm grey eyes and the eye liner accented the mascara I had on. Most of the redness of my skin was covered up by foundation and blush, giving me a nice complexion. I went for natural pink lipstick rather than the deep fluorescent red that you see on commercials. The last thing I did was put on a touch of perfume. Once everything was done, I did a quick prayer to God that everything would go well and He would watch over me in case anything did go wrong.

I walked out of the bathroom, heading to the living room and sitting down on my couch. I took my phone out of my purse, eyeing the time. It was 1:45pm. Fifteen minutes before Nathan was supposed to pick me up, according to BaD that is. The sound of a doorbell ringing stopped my heart for the briefest of moments. Madara walked into the room, wondering who was at the door. I squeaked loudly, rushing up to Madara and grabbing hold of his sleeve to drag him into the kitchen.

"Stay out of sight!" I pleaded with him. "Please, do this for me, just this once."

Madara was staring at me, not saying a word. I took the silence as a positive answer, placing a hand over my chest to calm my beating heart. I took a series of steady breathes before walking back out into the living room. I looked back at Madara, who was still staring at me.

"How do I look?" I sheepishly asked him, feeling rather foolish for asking such a stupid question to Madara.

"…Revolting. You look more like a doll than a human."

I felt a scowl creep onto my face. "I'll take that as a compliment. Thank you very much, douchebag."

I turned my back to the horrid ninja, putting a nice face on before I opened the door. I felt my heart rate quicken when I saw Nathan's face. His perfectly angled features, his smooth tan skin, his baby blue eyes and thick brown hair. It was all so different yet so familiar. This was the perfect American man. This was the man I would want to marry in my future. I ignored the feeling of piercing eyes stabbing into my back, slamming the door behind me as if to say "Fuck you!" to Madara.

"Hello, Nathan!" I greeted him shyly.

"Wow. Lilith, is that really you?" he asked in amazed delight. "You look great!"

"Thank you," I replied, a blush making its way onto my face. "So, what's the plan?"

"Whatever you want, I guess. I did however get us some reserved seats at Giovanni's later tonight."

"Oh! Really? That's great!"

"How about a movie to start this date off?"

"Sure! Which one do you want to see?"

"How about that new Marvel movie?"

"Oh! You mean _Winter Soldier_? That's fine. I've been dying to see that one anyway."

He grabbed hold of my hand and held it in a gentle grip. Pleasing tingles ran up my spine at the contact. I could barely contain the excitement that flowed through my veins. This was going to be a good day; I could just feel it.

* * *

I laughed at the joke Nathan had just told. It was now dinnertime and we had just entered Giovanni's. It was a nice restaurant, rating pretty high overall for food and décor. I couldn't remember the last time I had a fancy meal of any kind. I wasn't rich, so I couldn't afford pleasantries like lobster or filet mignon. The waiter sat us at a table, giving us the menus so we could order.

"Have you ever had wine before, Lilith?" Nathan asked.

"No. I'm not a drinker," I admitted, hiding behind my menu a bit.

"Okay. Just thought I'd ask in case you wanted some."

He was so caring and thoughtful. Not anything like Madara. I mentally backtracked and then mentally slapped myself. What the hell was I doing, comparing Nathan and Madara!? There was no comparison to be made! Madara was a douche; simple as that. He didn't even deserve to be compared with a snail! That would be an insult to the snail! I focused on reading the menu, hoping to get my mind off that horrid man.

"Hey, mom? Why is that man out there upside down?"

I stole a quick glance at the direction I heard the voice. A teenager alongside her parents was looking at something outside the window. I followed her gaze, my jaw dropping at what I saw.

"Madara!?" I said aloud in disbelief. What the hell was he doing _here_!?

"What?" Nathan asked, wondering what I was so worked up about.

"Uh…um… Ma, dar a! My mom gives it! It's Spanish! I've been practicing recently!" I hastily lied. I wanted to smack myself. Who in their right mind would believe that crap!?

Nathan chuckled. "Well, you need some improvement. Mother is 'madre' and you need to conjugate 'dar'. Then you replace 'a' with 'la' or 'lo'."

I laughed nervously. I was safe for now. "Yeah…thank you?"

"Here you are."

I stiffened when I felt someone behind me. I knew that voice. Good lord above; why was he _here_!? Why couldn't he have listened to me just this once and let me enjoy myself!? Madara, you bastard! I stood up out of my chair, glaring at Madara even though I was at least a head shorter than him. Nathan was confused, wondering who the hell Madara was. Everyone in the restaurant had their attention focused on me and Madara.

"All I asked was this one day for some enjoyment," I growled through gritted teeth. "I told you to stay out of sight! Was that so hard to do?"

"I did, just this once. You never said I had to always keep out of sight."

"Lilith? You know this guy?" Nathan said with a sharp edge in his voice. He stood up out of his chair.

"I do, unfortunately," I said, attempting to think of something to say. It then hit me out of leftfield. "He's my ex-boyfriend."

"_What_!?" Madara and Nathan said simultaneously.

I grabbed hold of Madara's sleeve, dragging him alongside me and leading him to the door. I was so pissed off and embarrassed at the same time. Why did Madara have to appear _now_!? Once we exited the restaurant, I launched into a tirade of every horrible choice word I knew of. Some were enough to make people nearby blush from the vulgarity of them. I called him every ethnic slur I could think of; yellow, Jap, oriental bastard, Godzilla food, the whole nine yards. Once I was done, I was nearly breathless.

"Are you quite finished?" Madara said blankly, looking down at me.

"For now, at least…" I muttered under my breath. "Explain to me _why_ you decided to pop in unannounced on my date with Nathan!?"

"I do not take lightly to people who attempt to take away what is mine."

"People who attempt to take…" I trailed off, my fuse burning up completely. The explosion came. "I'M NOT A FRICKIN' OBJECT TO BE OWNED! I'M A HUMAN BEING! Have you no compassion at _all_!? Have you ever once stopped to think about what _I_ want!? Of course not! Your ego is as big as your hatred for the world! Your arrogance, conceit, and your selfish disdain for the feelings of others make me sick! How anyone, even your own _family_, saw any good in you is beyond me!"

I turned my back on him, crossing my arms. "I've had it. You can run to Beth and let her take care of you. I'm not going to stand here and deal with your infuriating attitude as you step all over me! You can die in a ditch for all I care!"

I stormed off, not caring where I went or if Nathan ended up following me after the commotion I had made outside the restaurant. I just wanted to be alone. I needed some time to clear my thoughts. A maelstrom of emotions coursed through my mind. I was angry, hurt, sad, frustrated, and happy all at once. I disliked not being able to determine what I was feeling. It made me feel as if I had a lack of control over myself mentally.

"Hello. What's a pretty thing like you doing here all alone?"

I stiffened, finally taking note of where I was. It was a deserted area of Detroit, just the type of place where drug dealers and murderers would make their home. My heart jumped into my throat as I saw the man come closer to me. He was a middle-aged man, his dark hair all scraggy and unkempt. There was a gun attached to his belt and a knife in his hand. I did not like the look of lust in his eyes. I cursed at myself for allowing my emotions to get the better of me. My heart started beating wildly as I felt my back press into a wall. For that briefest moment he lunged at me, taking my wrists in one hand and holding my waist with the other. He pressed his knee between my legs, straddling them as his face got closer to mine.

"Yeah. You're a real pretty one, aren't ya? Would you like to play, my little minx?"

My throat constricted as I heard those words. Those horrid words. Those horrid images. They were coming back. I didn't want to see _it_. Not again. No no no no no no no no no no no no no no no. Bad, bad, bad, bad, bad. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't see. My heart wouldn't stop beating in my ears. Why can't I breathe? My chest won't stop hurting. The fire won't stop burning.

Stay here. I don't want to. It's for your safety. I can't leave you. Do it for me. Screaming that curdles the lifeblood of all who hear. Lands of endless dreams and paper flowers. May I stay within that nightmare for eternity? Crimson rivers flow on mountains of black. A lullaby for a stormy night. Sing it to me. Echoes of explosions. Comforting warmth. Silence. Footsteps close in. Thick scent of iron and rust. Hold me close and never let go. Burning fires of Hell. Cradle me in your arms so that I may know true peace once again. Make the pain and sorrow stop, fair and shining Light, for I miss you so. Don't ever leave my side again, dearest devil of the guardian angels.

* * *

**Cliffhanger! I happen to have a soft spot inside me for darker events in a fanfic. It really brings out the humanity of characters and shows that the world is not all sunshine and rainbows, because it isn't. So, here we a possessive Madara and Lilith has a mental breakdown. What's going to happen next? Well, I'll give you a small hint. Look closely at the very last paragraph of Lilith's incoherent thoughts. Analyze it and try to pick out what happened...or just wait until I get the next chapter out if your brains aren't up for the challenge!  
**


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